


Out Of Darkness

by jedicallie (writergirlie)



Series: Callista Returns series [2]
Category: Star Wars: New Republic Era - Various
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-12
Updated: 2010-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 60,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writergirlie/pseuds/jedicallie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been five years since Callista Masana--now going by the name Callista Ming--last saw Luke Skywalker, when she made the painful realization that she couldn't be with him until she was whole once again. But now a new danger emerges, threatening to destroy Luke's fledgling new Jedi Order, and possibly the entire New Republic itself. Faced with this new threat, Callista comes out of hiding to warn Luke before it's too late, and the former couple is forced to confront the unresolved issues between them. (AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's no secret that the character of Callista isn't exactly one of the more popular characters in the SW book fandom. I always thought this was a shame, because Barbara Hambly created such a rich, layered, and beautiful character in her--someone who I thought was the perfect complement to Luke. I was obviously disappointed when the character was written out of Luke's life, and this was my response to that unfortunate turn of events. I hope those of you who like Callista will think my portrayal of her (and her relationship with Luke) does her justice; and I hope those of you who don't like her will see why she is one of my favorite characters through the way I write her.
> 
> For George Lucas, who created this amazing universe in the first place, and Barbara Hambly, for creating a character worthy of standing alongside Luke, Leia, &amp; Han.

There were no images at first. Only darkness--a suffocating, choking blackness that surrounded him and seeped into his core. Luke Skywalker knew instantly that he was dreaming. But somehow the realization did little to ease his disorientation, or quiet the faint whisper of panic that was beginning to rise up inside him.

Nothing leapt out at him from the shadows. Nothing cried out to him in the darkness. He had no reason to sense that anything was out of place. And yet, the cold feel of dread knifed into him, and his heart pounded wildly in his ears as if already aware of something he could not yet discern. He fought to steady his breathing and quiet his mind, but even as he  drew on the Force to compose himself, the first hint of peril only grew more insistent.

_Let go, Luke_...

Ben’s gentle voice tugged on his mind as he inched forward in small, deliberate steps.

_Stretch out with your feelings_...

His feelings... What were his feelings trying to tell him? Anticipation, dread--they stirred in the pit of his stomach though he had no tangible proof of  danger.

Still no hint of light. His eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness, but now at least, he seemed to have gotten a sense of direction, however vague or unsure it was. Cautiously, he continued to walk forward, one foot in front of the other. He reached his hands around him. If there were only something to touch, to hold on to... But he could feel nothing but thick, dense air--nothing of substance, nothing solid. No texture, no shape, no form.

Panic began to trickle in his bones again, too strong to ignore this time. With a deep breath, he summoned the Force and expelled the growing anxiety within him. _Relax_, he reminded himself, _it’s only a dream_... He’d had nightmares before. At times, he’d even had premonitions that left him gasping for air when he awoke. On Dagobah, he had many of them--the disturbing visions of Leia and Han on Bespin that had invaded his sleep, assaulting his senses in the daytime, haunting him again and again until he finally  had to take action.

But this... This was different. This was as chilling a premonition as he had ever gotten. And he was sure it was a premonition. Though no images had revealed themselves to him yet, the certainty of impending doom was undeniable. He had never been this certain of anything.

Every fiber of his being was whispering it to him.

He tried to walk again. Even without the benefit of sight, he managed to keep his balance as he maneuvered through the blackness, with only the Force as his guide. Gravel and rock crackled and popped underneath his boots--the only sound other than the hush of his smooth, steady breath in the otherwise tense stillness.

And then he heard it.

“Luke?”

His breath stalled in his throat. Was it real? He stood frozen in his spot, waiting for a sign that he hadn’t just imagined that voice.

“Luke...” she said again.

He’d know that voice anywhere.

_It can’t be_... _It can’t be_....

“Where are you?” she called out. She sounded just as unsure of herself, as if trying to make her way through the darkness as Luke was. “You’re here, I can... feel you...” There was surprise in her voice, her words laced with unexpected joy. Pure, unadulterated joy. “I can feel you,” she repeated, laughing shakily.

Luke shut his eyes and heard his breath turn ragged--short choppy sounds that barely escaped his mouth. His heart thrashed against his ribs, and he turned his head toward the lone voice, trying to sense the direction from which it came.

“Luke, where are you...”

The familiar sweet, husky alto at once infused him with warmth and struck fear in him. She was scared. He could feel her dread as her voice grew louder, as he felt her coming closer to him.

“Callista?” he whispered in the darkness, still unsure whether to trust his ears, not quite able to fathom that she was here with him--even if it was only a dream.

“Is that you?” He strained his eyes to focus, and a shape began to form before him: the tall, slender, graceful figure he knew so well. Gradually, he saw the smooth oval of her face in the darkness, the halo of malt-brown curls that fell past her shoulders, the clear, slate-colored eyes that met his in disbelief.

_If I could ask for only one thing, one thing in my entire life_...

“Luke...?” Her voice shook as she saw him, and relief flooded her eyes. She started to run towards him, arms extended in anticipation of embrace. But she got no closer. Something kept her from advancing... Luke watched her struggle to reach him, drawing all of her energy to move in his direction.. “I can’t,” she cried, looking up at him, her eyes wild with panic. “I can’t move...” She was on all fours now, having stumbled to the ground in a vain effort to move her paralyzed legs.

Without hesitation, he bolted towards her. “I’m right here, Callie,” he called out to her. He could feel the fear in her rising, permeating the air, enveloping the both of them. What was she so afraid of? What was it that _he_ was  sensing? What was this all trying to tell him?

_Fear leads to the dark side, Callista... Hold on, I’m coming for you_...

Suddenly he felt her terror subside, replaced by calm--almost as if she knew what was about to happen to her, and she had ceased to resist.

“Save yourself...” she whispered, and her words sent ice water running through Luke’s veins. 

“Hang on!” he shouted. “Hang on for me, please...”

But before he could reach her, she started to fade into blackness--as if she had never been there in the first place. “Callista!” he screamed. He tried to touch her, but all he could grasp was air. “No!!!!” Frantically he clutched at the emptiness where she had stood, trying in vain to feel her flesh. “No... No...”

“Save yourself, Luke,” she said once again--a disembodied voice in the stillness, as she had once been when Luke first encountered her on the _Eye of Palpatine_. He squeezed his eyes shut at the memory.

“No, Callista... Please... Not now... Don’t you do this to me again...”

It was no use.

She was gone again.

Luke woke with a violent shake as his body jolted upright in an unfamiliar bed, and as he began to come out of the fog of the dream that had seemed all too real, he began to remember where he was: on Coruscant, in the guest room of Han and Leia’s apartment. Beads of cold sweat gathered on his forehead, trickling down his temple. He wiped them away and buried his weary head in his hands, still shaking from the ordeal.

“Callista...”

He knew there’d be no one to answer, but somehow he needed to say her name out loud.

The images lingered in his mind--her outreached arms, her frantic cry, the dread in her frightened eyes... The memory of them sent chills up his spine.

“Where are you... What were you trying to tell me?”

He sat in bed for a few awkward moments, trying to assimilate the jumbled images that were beginning to slip away from him as he moved further into consciousness. But it seemed the more he tried to remember them, the more they ran away from him.

Ghosts that couldn’t be chased.

Finally, moved by frustration, he flung his blanket aside and rose from the bed. The silence in the room was maddening, and yet, he supposed he should be thankful for one small miracle: at least he was here on Coruscant, with his family--not alone in his apartment on Yavin, where memories of her permeated every centimeter of every room, like a trace of a fragrance that lingered in the air.

Had he dreamed this in his room--in the bed he had once shared with her--the agony of waking would have been all the more unbearable.

He slipped through the doors as quietly as he could, and made his way towards the kitchen in the darkness.

_At least here_, _I can see in the dark._

His eyes had adjusted within minutes, and then he began to rummage through the cupboards to fix himself a cup of jeru tea, careful not to make too much noise and wake everyone else. But memories invaded his mind again, even as he tried to focus on the here and now and what he was doing, and once more, the frustration rose up in him, like acid in his lungs.

He let out a heavy exhale and brought the cup to his lips. The shock of the tea’s sweetness awakened him further, and he had to set it down to let his taste buds adjust.

Funny, he’d once hated the taste of this particular drink—he’d even teased Callista for her almost unnatural affinity for it, not to mention, her continual attempts to get him to like it as well, though he would always resist. Now he found himself drinking it often, as if in some sort of tribute to her.

“Luke?”

It was Leia.

He saw her face emerge from the shadows. She stood there for a moment before she approached him slowly, still dressed in a floor-length white robe that shined like silver in the fragmented light of the moon outside, her heavy, unbraided hair falling past her shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he said, straightening as she came closer. “I didn’t mean to make a racket, I just... I couldn’t sleep...”

“It’s all right,” she said. She extended a hand towards the light switch behind him, and the skylight above them came to life. “Han heard something out here, but I had a feeling it was you, so I came to see if you needed anything.”

“No, I’m fine... I didn’t wake the kids, did I?”

She shook her head. “They could sleep through a sonic boom,” she said, laughing. “I see you can’t sleep very well when you’re not in your own bed.”

Luke smiled. They both knew that that wasn’t the real reason he was still awake.

They were as close as two people could be, and yet, something stopped him from telling her why he couldn’t sleep. Part of him wanted to--the part of him that knew that she of all people would understand, and would know that this had been no ordinary dream. Still, he couldn’t tell her.

Not yet.

Leia, of course, was not the type to pry. Though at times it seemed as if thoughts flowed naturally between them, she had always made a conscious effort not to probe her brother’s mind. Not that she needed to. Something about the way she was looking at him told him that once again, he must have been wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“Callista’s favorite drink,” she finally said, gesturing towards his cup.

“You remembered?”

She nodded and smiled. “At nights it would get really cold on Nam Chorios--you remember that. She would make this for us to keep warm.” She laughed at the memory. “I don’t know how she could stand drinking it. It was always too sweet for my taste.”

Luke found himself chuckling as well. “I didn’t like it too much myself in the beginning,” he said. “But, amazingly enough... she got me to like it.”

Leia didn’t say anything, as though sensing that she’d be treading on delicate ground. There was silence between them for a few moments, then she came closer and took him by the hand. “Come on,” she said, leading him towards the balcony. “Come take a look at this view. It’s absolutely breathtaking at night.”

“You mean early morning,” Luke teased.

“Hey, I already married a smart-aleck--I don’t need one for a brother too, thank you.”

They stepped out into the cool, crisp air. There were a million lights out in the skyline, a city-planet still alive and thriving long after most of its inhabitants had gone to sleep. Together, they stood there beside each other in silence.

After a while, Leia said softly, “You’re not the only one who misses her, you know.”

Somehow, Luke wasn’t surprised at the accuracy of her words.

“I never told you this,” she went on, as if sensing that even in his silence, his consent was understood, “but when I was on Nam Chorios with her... she trained me for a while. She helped me see that it was foolish of me to keep running away from my destiny, that I had to embrace this power that I didn’t think I could ever understand--or would even want.”

He looked at her, but she was no longer looking at him. Instead, her eyes were focused somewhere out in the distance, towards the countless skyscrapers before them.

“That’s what made me finally finish my training with you,” she said. “That’s why I finally walked away from my job--from everything that had been holding me back from my calling, and... my family.”

He knew that somewhere in all of this, she was trying to tell him something, and guilt kept him from meeting her gaze.

“I know,” he finally said.

“Luke...”

He knew what she was going to say.

“Please don’t shut us out... I love you--we all do. Whatever this is you’re carrying inside of you... I hope you can let it go when the time is right...” She took his hand again. “I know how much it killed you when she left,” she said softly, “and believe me, I would have given just about anything to have made her stay. But drowning yourself in your work isn’t going to solve anything. I know that all too well.”

“You’re right,” he said at last. And she was. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept.

She reached up to kiss him on the cheek and before she turned to go back in, she said, “Think about what I said, all right?"

He nodded, offering her a smile to let her know she needn’t worry. Not that it would make much of a difference—she seemed to find it part of her job description to fuss and worry over him.

“Good night, Leia.”

“Good night.”

She squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture, a silent thank you.

She had spoken the truth, of course, however he hated to admit it.

Life had consisted of a routine for him since Callista left. It had been the only way to dull the pain of her absence--the only way to fill the void, to make sense of the haze of the last five years without her.

His life had made sense once. He had felt exquisite joy and light, the feeling that he no longer needed to walk alone on his journey. Callista had given him that. But just as quickly as she came into his life, she was gone once again, leaving him alone in his grief.

He grimaced, the riptide of troubling visions once again flooding his memory, and he leaned forward and gripped the edge of the balcony rail.

He dreamed of her every night. That her ephemeral, elusive image appeared to him tonight--that was no surprise. But this dream was. His dreams of her never contained so much dread and utter darkness as tonight’s had.

What had she said to him as she was fading?

_Save yourself, Luke..._

“Save yourself,” he murmured, trying to focus on the now-distant images of the dream, though they laughed at him as they slipped further away. He shook his head in frustration. Save himself from what? The gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach intensified--whatever it was, he thought as he swallowed hard, it might have already gotten to Callista.

Yoda’s wizened face came to him. “Do not underestimate your dreams,” he had told Luke. Even a fully trained Jedi couldn’t always let go of the conscious self, and the Force could weave dreams out of grains of truth.

Luke raised his head to the heavens again, to the stars strewn across the clear, onyx sky. Callista was out there somewhere. And she needed him--he was sure of that.

“I won’t let anything happen to  you,” he whispered.

Wherever she was, and whatever she was doing, he would find her.

Before it was too late...


	2. Chapter 2

“Luke?”

It was a silly gesture, and Callista knew it.

Almost as soon as she said his name, she felt the hot rush of blood reach her cheeks, embarrassment burning into her as she realized what she had just done without being aware of it. Immediately she looked up to see if anyone had been close enough to hear her, but thankfully, she was alone; the rest of Jeor Goresh’s crew was hundreds of meters away, scurrying about in the ark down below. 

Last night she had dreamt of him--as she did every night--and though the details had long since faded from memory, she remembered hearing his voice, calling out to her in the distance, and she had answered him as she did just now.

She sighed and shook her head, stray locks of malt-brown hair falling in her eyes. _Of course I didn’t hear him_, she thought. The bitterness of the realization swept over her again with the force of a tidal wave, as harsh and as painful as always. And yet as she stood there, leaning against the doorway of Jeor’s makeshift office, eyes fixed on the distant heavens where she had spent the last five years running away from the memory of the great love of her life, she could have sworn she felt the gentle touch of his mind--if only for a fleeting moment. Even six years without the Force had not robbed her of the memory of that unmistakable and exhilarating sensation, the feeling of one being reaching out to another in the Force.

A connection that even she didn’t know was possible between two people.

The whisper of his mind always felt as real as the whisper of his voice.

It was impossible though, or at least, unlikely. Though she had experienced small victories in the months since she left the _Zicreex_ to re-devote herself to reclaiming her powers--she had managed to sharpen her already quick reflexes even more, and teach herself to slip into the Jedi meditation state once again--the harsh truth was, she still could not touch the Force.

It taunted her at times. So close, yet still so far away--sometimes she could almost feel its faint tendrils brushing against her like the light mist of saltwater. But those rare moments vanished soon after, as if they had never come, leaving Callista to wonder if she’d ever know the feeling of the Force flowing through her veins again.

No, she reasoned, she couldn’t have felt Luke just now.

It was just her imagination. It had to be.

She kicked at the ground in frustration, the salty spray of sea water stinging her eyes. Or perhaps it wasn’t the ocean mist at all, but the uninvited tears that had risen to the surface, despite Callista’s best attempts to suppress them. Every day was like this. There were moments--many moments--when thoughts of Luke Skywalker suddenly invaded her consciousness, like an unheralded storm from the  depths of Chad’s oceans, washing ashore all that had long been buried.

All that could not be forgotten.

His face… Those clear blue eyes… The radiant smile that first greeted her in her dream-like state aboard the _Eye_, when she had almost forgotten what it was to live until he walked into her life… They haunted her night after lonely night when she dreamed of him. Ached for him.

But she had taught herself over the years to keep him out of her thoughts. She had to, in order to keep going.

“Hey Callista! When you’re done daydreaming over there, could ya give us a hand?”

The deep, full-bodied voice bellowed from below, and Callista straightened immediately from where she stood, realizing that she had stayed up far too long. She took a few steps forward from the doorway to lean over the edge of the pier. There he stood--arms akimbo, eyebrow cocked in mild annoyance. Jeor Goresh was not known for his patience, and it occurred to a mortified Callista that he must have been waiting for her for at least twenty minutes now. She held up her hand in  a gesture of apology. “I’ll be right there, Jeor!” She waved the small breather mask in her hand. “It took me a while to find this,” she said. Hoping a little humor would be enough to appease him,  she added, “It’s a mess in there!”

Jeor Goresh responded with an infectious laugh that seemed to come from the depths of his rounded, protruding belly. “C’mon,” he replied, shrugging his massive shoulders as he shook in laughter, “You had to have seen worse. You traveled with Gamorreans for crying out loud! You’re telling me you’ve never seen a little untidiness?”

Callista flashed a mischievous smile. “Untidiness?” she repeated in mock disbelief, “Even Captain Ugmush’s quarters were neater than yours!” 

 “You’re mighty spunky for someone who’s in danger of her pay being docked today!” Jeor grumbled, and despite his smirk, Callista knew a smile was hiding just beneath the surface of his gruff exterior.

“Aw, you wouldn’t do that...”

“Try me,” he said, before the corners of his mouth twitched into an exasperated grin. Threats were useless for him. No matter how intimidating he tried to be to his crew, they could always see through his act. “Would you get down here already? Time’s a-wastin’, let’s move it!”

“Aye-aye, cap’n!” she said, saluting him in jest. She bounded down the stairway of the pier and with one swift leap, landed onto the deck of the main barge where Jeor stood. The wind had started to pick up, whipping at her hair, and she brushed aside the disobedient curls that came loose from her braid.  One last time, she took another long look at the pier as the ark pulled away.  Her eye caught movement at the bottom of the docks, black and bronze gleaming in the coy sunlight. As if on cue, several cy’eens had burst out of the ocean, playfully darting in and out of the water, singing their ocean lullaby. Mesmerized, Callista watched them and couldn’t help but smile. She remembered the sight of them well, from when she was a child sailing these same seas so long ago.

A thousand lifetimes ago.

There were times, especially when she was alone on the _Eye_, with nothing but her memories to sustain her, when she wondered if she would ever live to see her home world again. And even after she had received the unexpected gift of rebirth, and was swept away by Luke to Belsavis, Yavin 4, and countless other worlds, her heart longed to return to the one place where her past came alive. Where the Callista she knew, the Callista who swam with the cy’eens and laughed with the tsaelke--the Callista who once touched the Force--still existed as a spirit embued in the saltwater tides.

Perhaps, she had thought when she first landed on Chad’s surface after more than forty years away, coming here would give her peace. And perhaps the peace she so longed for would somehow allow her wayward powers to return.

Perhaps that was the way of the Force.

“Mother says there’s a hurricane coming at nightfall,” Jeor told her as he came up behind her. “You know her track record.”

Callista nodded without facing him. “Manzir’s amazing,” she replied. “I don’t know how she knows these things, but she hasn’t missed yet...”

 “She swears she feels it in her bones,” he said with a chuckle. Callista heard him crouch down to sit on the edge of the ark, his boots thumping softly as his heavy feet dangled off its side. “I don’t know, I guess when you get to be her age,  you’re more at one with nature or something. Whatever it is, it’s sure a useful skill to have.”

Callista laughed, almost more to herself than to him. A wistful laugh, carrying regret rather than amusement. “I used to know when storms were coming too,” she murmured. _Back when I had the Force_, she finished in her mind, and her hand slid down to the lightsaber at her side. She looked down and closed her hand on the cool metal of its handle, her finger lightly tracing the pattern of tsaelke she had etched with care all those years ago. With a shaky sigh, she released it again to swing at her hip.

Even all these years later, the trauma of her loss still seared into her, a dull pain that had not lessened with time.

“Papa used to be amazed when I would tell him that we needed to dock because of a storm,” she continued, still staring in the direction of the singing cy’eens, though by now they were invisible in the distance. “I’m not sure Uncle Claine ever believed me, though. He’d tell me it was just me being lucky, but I was right every time...”

Behind her, she heard Jeor get up and shift his weight side to side, as if debating whether to approach her, fumbling for the right words to say at that moment. “Well... anyway...” he said at last, awkwardly clearing his throat, “We can still get pretty far down the Current before the storm hits. We’ll have to stay put for a while though, till it breaks. Goodness knows I just paid a fortune to get this thing in tip-top shape again.” He reached down to bang at the hull for emphasis. “And I won’t let another nasty hurricane pull ‘er apart again!”

Callista could feel his growing discomfort with the silence, as he rambled on. “I just hope we don’t get caught in wystoh territory by the time we dock. As if a hurricane weren’t enough to worry about...”

A few moments passed before Callista finally spoke. With a conscious effort, she pushed out the sad thoughts from her mind and turned to Jeor with a smile. “Aw, where’s your sense of adventure?” she teased.

Jeor rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “I give up with you,” he laughed. He paused before turning to leave, a look of fatherly concern on his weathered face. He opened his mouth to say something, then, as if thinking the better of it, closed it again a few seconds later and smiled.

“Go on,” Callista nodded, knowing what he was going to say. “I’ll be in in a little bit. I just...”

“I know,” he said. “Take all the time you need.”

* * *

Callista’s gaze was fixed on the tiny remote floating before her. It darted about her like a small insect, randomly zigzagging as it released quick, unpredictable blasts in quick succession. There was a time when she could easily handle five of them--all on their highest setting--but at that moment, she struggled just to stay ahead of the one that seemed to have a mind of its own. It seemed to be mocking her.

She had been locked in a fighter’s stance for so long now, that she had lost track of just how much time she had been here in the empty mess hall, matching wits with the errant remote. It felt like it had been hours since she last breathed. She had been afraid that the slightest movement would break her concentration--what little she had at this stage, after the hours of relentless, numbing practice.

She threw a glance at the chronometer on the wall before her. Already past 0300 hours, she was shocked to note. Her muscles screamed out in agony--they had given up the fight long before she did, but something in her told her to keep going. “Fight through the pain, the exhaustion, the uncertainty,” Master Djinn would have told her. “It is the only way a Jedi earns his dues.”

_This is my only chance_...

It was the thought she had clung to all these years: that if she could only work hard enough--fight hard enough--perhaps it would come back to her again. On its own.

“You’re still up?”

Callista pivoted behind her, surprised that someone else was awake at this hour. She smiled upon seeing the tiny, wizened old woman who had entered the hall. “I should ask you the same thing, Manzir,” she said. “You couldn’t have heard me from all the way down here? I didn’t think I was being _that_ loud...”

Manzir shook her head and laughed. “No, of course not... But I had a feeling you’d still be at this. I was right.”

Callista smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “You were right--as usual.”

She let out a small yelp as the remote tore into her forearm with an unexpected blast, and managed to swing her topaz blade just in time to deflect its next shot.

“Blast it!”

 Angry at herself for having taken her eyes off it for a second, she shut it down, letting it drop to the ground in a soft thud. She watched it fall, then let out a sigh that shook through her body. After a while, she looked up at Manzir again. “I’m sorry,” she muttered as she powered down her lightsaber and hooked it once again to her belt. “I guess that was my own fault... I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted...”

 “You don’t have to be sorry,” the older woman answered, waving off Callista’s embarrassment. She crouched down and picked up the remote, handing it back to Callista. “I see how hard you work at this day after day--I think you’re entitled to have a letdown or two, don’t you think?”

Callista smiled. “I’m afraid I’ve surpassed my quota for the day, then.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what this must be like for you,” Manzir said. “I know I would probably go crazy if I suddenly woke up and couldn’t see or hear anymore. This can’t be any easier to deal with.”

“With as much time as it's been,” Callista said softly, “I had hoped I would have found the secret to dealing with it. But I suppose it’s going to take me a little while longer.”

“I just wish... You don’t have to be so hard on yourself, you know.”

Something in her voice reminded Callista for a moment of her own mother, and she felt the tension leave her. “I know you’re right,” she nodded, instinctively touching the lightsaber at her hip. “But I just keep thinking that the minute I let up...”

“That what? That all your hard work will be for nothing?”

Callista nodded.

Manzir walked over to her, and reached a wrinkled hand to Callista’s chin. “My child... Sometimes the more we struggle, the harder we make things for ourselves. You have to learn to let go every once in a while.”

_Words of wisdom_, thought Callista. It was something Djinn would have said to her too, had he lived to see his student lose her contact with the Force. She wondered if he would have done anything differently in a similar situation.

“Oh my, do you hear that?” Manzir exclaimed, turning her ear towards the direction of howling wind as it rattled and shook the barge. She shuddered along with the tremors. “It’s a good thing we were able to dock before nightfall. This storm is turning out to be worse than I thought it would be.”

It was the first time Callista had even noticed the storm. She had been so focused on her exercises in the last few hours that she had managed to drown out the fury outside--and now she wondered how she ever could have missed the almost frightening wailing of the winds. She made her way to a small window and peered out. She could barely see past the downpour of rain that battered against the hull of the ark, and suddenly, she recalled Jeor’s earlier fears about his newly renovated ship surviving such a storm. Shivering in the coolness, Callista wrapped her arms tightly around her and craned her neck to watch the pulsating rhythms of the violent waves crashing against the ship.

Suddenly, a small, muffled bang caught her attention.

It was subtle, and for a moment Callista wondered if she had just imagined it. But it came again--a little louder this time, and accompanied by a mild vibration just beneath her feet. She turned beside her to Manzir. “Did you... Did you just hear that?”

“It’s really fierce out there, isn’t it?” Manzir answered.

Callista shook her head and rose up on her toes to look outside again. She couldn’t see anything through the downpour of rain, but... something else was there.

She was sure of it.

“No, Manzir, I don’t think it’s the rain... It can’t just be the rain...”

“What can’t be the rain?”

A loud clank rang out a few seconds later. Both women struggled for the balance as the aftershock caught them off guard.

“That! Did you hear that?”

Manzir nodded slightly, her eyes narrow, as if straining to hear the sound. Suddenly, her eyes fluttered wide and flew to meet Callista’s gaze. “Callista,” she whispered, her voice barely audible against the wrath of the storm, “Are we anywhere near the wystoh?”

Oh no...

Callista held her breath and turned her head to look out the window. From her vantage point, she could see nothing suspicious--no visible signs of the extremely territorial and often violent hunters of the sea, who had been known to attack unsuspecting water-ranchers caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“I can’t tell what’s down there,” she said. Mist was beginning to form on the windows, and she frantically tried to wipe the moisture off to see something--anything. “There’s something there, though... I’m sure of it...”

“Do you think it’s them?”

Callista didn’t answer. The look of near-panic on Manzir’s face told her that the old woman must have seen this thousands of times before--probably about as many times as Callista had in her youth. And they both knew what could come next if they didn’t act quickly.

Jeor. She had to tell Jeor.

“It’s coming from right below,” she said, as another tremor bumbled beneath them. The engines were located in the underside of the ship--Callista swallowed hard as the panicked realization dawned on her that someone may have broken through the panels on the bottom, and water was now seeping through.

Even before she saw Manzir gesture towards the comlink panel on the opposite end of the hall, she had already spun and raced towards it, her fingers fumbling for the switch.

“Jeor, get down here!” she said, fighting with every ounce of strength she had to keep panic from setting in. “Jeor, are you there?”

The comlink cracked and Jeor’s groggy reply came through the speaker. “Cal? What is it?”

“Something’s down here, banging against the ship,” she said. “I can’t see what it is, but if the wystoh have found us...”

 “The wystoh?!”

She knew she had Jeor’s undivided attention now.

“Sound the alarm, Callista. Meet me at the deck--I’ll be right there... No one’s going to take this barge apart, not if I have anything to say about it!”

_I hope you’ve fixed this thing like you promised_, Callista thought, as she punched furiously at the keys. An error flashed after she entered the code.

_Wrong combination! Damn it, Jeor_...

The code had been changed several times since she had joined the crew--she didn’t know how in the world anybody could possibly keep track of all of them, but she had no choice but to remember as many of them as she could and hope she would somehow stumble upon the right one soon.

One more try did the trick. The sirens blared a few seconds later, and she turned behind her at Manzir one last time. She could see the old woman making a move to join her, but Callista shook her head.

“Manzir, we don’t know how many of them are out there... Please stay here--it’ll be safer...”

Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but soon after, she nodded. “You be careful,” she said.

Callista nodded and gave her a small smile. “Hey, I may not have the Force anymore, but I can still fight a hell of a fight! They won’t get away so easily...”

The sound of Manzir’s nervous laughter blending with the savage winds was the last thing Callista heard as she sprinted up the narrow gangway. She had walked this same plank countless times before, but tonight it seemed endless, as if she would never reach the deck in time. But she did, and the avalanche of rain nearly overtook her when she emerged. Her jumpsuit clung to her body, the shock of cold water soaking through the thin material, making her gasp out loud.

In the darkness and the haze of blinding rain, she managed to make out the shape of Jeor lumbering towards her. Behind him was his gawky, gangly son, Salmo, and other crew members she couldn’t quite recognize from a distance.

Though the sound wasn’t quite as apparent from the deck as it had been down in the belly of the ship, it was there nonetheless. Callista leaned over the edge in the hopes of seeing something that would tell her what this was, but there was nothing there but the waves battering against the ark.

As the men came closer, she motioned towards the bottom of the ark. “It’s down there, whatever it is!” she shouted above the unrelenting winds.

She heard Jeor curse ferociously. “I’m not letting anything tear this thing apart again!” he roared. “I’m going down there!” Water splattered onto the deck in all directions as he hurled himself into the ocean and vanished into its dark depths.

“Is he insane?” cried Fane Talsen, a crewmember who was well-known for frequently butting heads with Jeor. “If they are down there, he can’t possibly take them on alone!”

She saw three or four more men dive in after Jeor, and Fane uttered more profanities.

She ignored him, and turned instead to the rest of the men. “I’m going in after them,” she said. “If we’re not back up in a few minutes...” Something stopped her from finishing the thought. “Keep your eyes open. If they’ve penetrated the ark from below, then there’s no telling how many of them there are!”

She rose to standing at the edge of the ark, tearing her breather mask free from her belt and biting hard on it to send a stream of oxygen to her lungs. She swore inwardly--there was hardly any oxygen left in its air tanks, probably no more than fifteen minutes worth if she was lucky.

_Well_, _what’s living, if you’re not living dangerously. Here goes nothing_...

The freezing water stabbed her like a thousand knives when she plunged in. But before she could even register the sudden drop in temperature, an onslaught of waves smashed her unexpectedly against the hull, her breather mask nearly ripped from her mouth by the force of impact. Darkness fell on her for a few isolated seconds. When her vision finally returned, it was impossible to tell how long she had been out.

Not that she could see anything too clearly. It would be a few hours still before the sun would emerge again, and the moons could provide only so much light this far down into the oceans. She would have to make do with trying to make out shapes through the murky waters.

She ran her hand down the side of the ark to orient herself, then slowly made her way down to the underside. She felt hands grab her suddenly. Her first instinct was to fight against whoever it was--she managed to loosen the person’s grip, until she realized it was Jeor who had grabbed her on the wrist to pull her down to where the others were.

She followed him down, still keeping one hand on the hull as they lowered themselves down the side of the ship. Her vision had still not adjusted; now things seemed blurrier than ever. She thought she saw the rest of the men, and they were holding something--a dark, rectangular object, at least two meters in length.

It had to have been what was banging against the ark. The panels underneath were still intact, from what she could make out--thank goodness for small miracles, she thought.

Jeor signaled everyone to raise the object up to the surface.

It was metal. The cold, smooth surface shocked her for an instant when she touched it, and she looked up at Jeor in curiosity. His eyes met hers for an instant--uncertain of what it was as well. He made a motion to swim up, pulling the object with him. 

The oxygen was fast running out. Callista knew she had been under water for too long, and there was no telling how much longer her breather mask would hold out on her. Swimming as fast as she could, she gasped when her head finally broke the surface, taking in gulps of air to fill her lungs.

“We need... help...” she managed to utter.

Jeor and the others pushed the block onto the deck, where it fell with a resounding boom, causing the entire deck to shake in response.

Still clutching her breather mask in her hand, Callista climbed up the side and collapsed onto the deck, hands so numb from the cold water that she could barely grip the metal ladder. She gasped for air, her lungs burning mercilessly within her and her head was throbbing badly now from its impact with the hull.

Then her eyes widened in horror as she saw--for the first time--what they had brought from out of the water.

“Force be with us...”

Even with the rain, and her still-blurry vision, she knew exactly what it was:

A block of carbonite. And inside, the body of a man with a look of absolute terror on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

As Luke watched Han and Leia’s children playing some form of hide and seek, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty.

He was doing it again.

He’d promised his family that he would come for a long overdue visit—Leia had had enough of his last minute cancellations and had insisted that he come for their joint birthday celebration, a tradition they had started several years ago—and yet, here he was again, present in body, but far absent in mind.

Truth be told, he was light-years away. Ever since his disturbing dream, he couldn’t keep Callista out of his mind. He’d gotten better over the years at pushing thoughts of her aside to make it through the day, but it seemed he was back to square one again. He couldn’t help it. Every instinct in him—every fiber of his being—told him danger was imminent, but try as he might, he couldn’t quite pinpoint its source yet.

Yoda used to warn him about the dangers of losing objectivity. Now he understood why.

“Uncle Luke, what are you thinking about?”

The small voice jarred him from his thoughts. Eight-year old Jaina had slipped away from her brothers and was tugging on his sleeve. He smiled at her and pulled her close to him, tapping her nose playfully.

“Nothing you need to worry about, kiddo,” he said.

“That’s what all the adults say.”

“That’s because it’s true.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Hmph. I think you just don’t want to tell us.”

He chuckled. Something about the way she had crossed her arms just now reminded him distinctly of Han.

“Anyway, I bet I know what it is…”

“Is that right?”

“Yep,” she said, her mouth forming the same triumphant grin that her father would break into after an especially good hand of sabacc. “I’m going to be a Jedi, remember?”

Luke smiled at the little girl’s self-assurance. He sure didn’t have any of this when he was her age. Not even when he was twice her age.

“All right, then,” he said. “Tell me what I’m thinking.”

She put her index finger on her chin and pretended to concentrate for a moment--he had to wonder where she got this flair for drama--then gave him a precocious smile and said, “You’re wondering why you haven’t gotten your present yet. What good’s a birthday if you don’t get to open any presents?”

He was certain that by now, Leia and Han must have caught part of the conversation. Luke looked up at them and sure enough, saw the pure amusement on their faces; he could have sworn that he even saw Han mouth the words, _Just roll with it, kid._

“The Force is strong in you, Jainy,” he said, leaning forward and whispering in his niece’s ear. “You found me out.”

Then, without warning, he tickled her, causing her to explode into squeals of laughter.

“I knew it!” she managed to say between fits of giggles. “I told you I’d guess it!”

Before Luke knew it, Jacen and Anakin, who no doubt must have spied their sister having fun without them, had jumped into the fray, flinging themselves onto their uncle.

“Time out, time out!” Luke said. “Uncle Luke needs to come up for air!”

The children obliged, albeit reluctantly.

“Do you want your present now?” Jaina said. She paused to swat Anakin on the arm after he tugged on her braid, but Leia’s disapproving glare immediately brought a guilty smile to her face.

“I’ve got it in my room, Uncle Luke,” Jacen told him.

Not one to be left out, Anakin added, “We all worked on it, though!”

Luke tousled the seven-year old’s head and gave him a smile. “That settles it then--I know I’m going to love it!”

Jaina rolled her eyes. “But you haven’t even seen it yet!”

“I’m a Jedi, remember?” Luke said, winking at her.

With that, the little girl’s face lit up, and she leapt out of Luke’s arms. “I’m going to go get it, Jace!”

“No, I want to get it!” came the response from both Jacen and Anakin, and all three sprinted to Jacen’s room to fetch the gift.

They reappeared moments later and handed Luke a somewhat shapeless object, wrapped in what seemed like layers and layers of wrapping paper. He brought it to his forehead and closed his eyes.

“I sense that this is a-”

“Open it, open it!”

“Patience, guys… If you want to be Jedi, you’ve got to be patie-”

“UNCLE LUKE!”

“Luke, trust me,” Han said, with an exasperated laugh, “this’ll be a lot more painless if you rip the sucker open.”

But it seemed Anakin couldn’t bear to hold the suspense any longer and blurted out, just as Luke was tearing into the wrapping, “It’s a holopad!”

“We put in all the holos all by ourselves,” Jacen told him breathlessly. “Mom and Dad didn’t even have to help us at all!”

“Well, only a little bit,” Jaina said. “But we got to pick which holos to put in!”

“That’s the part that counts the most,” Luke said. “I love it, thank you.”

He gathered them close and let Anakin press the on switch. A collage of different images formed: holos of him, the children, Han and Leia.

And then his heart stopped in his ribcage.

The holo was from six years ago. Her hair was still shorn close in a blunt officer’s cut, still white-blond, though smoke-brown roots were already starting to peek through; her features were still somewhere in between Cray’s and the face he had remembered so vividly from his dreams. She was laughing. He had almost forgotten how sweet the sound of her laughter was, forgotten how it was to see her like this, the carefree spirit that had drawn him in so completely, unlike anyone else he’d ever met before or since.

He missed her so much, it hurt.

“We found that holo of Aunt Callista. Doesn’t she look pretty?”

He nodded absently, transfixed by the sight of her. “Yes she does, Jainy.”

He felt Leia’s eyes on him, and when he looked up at her, he saw that all the color had drained from her face.

“Luke, I’m... I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t know that...”

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Jaina said. When her mother didn’t answer right away, she turned to Luke. “Did we do something bad?”

Luke managed to pull himself together and kissed her on the forehead. “No, sweetheart, you didn’t do anything bad.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, Jainy,” he said, giving her a smile. “Everything’s fine.”

“It doesn’t look fine.”

“Yeah, you look upset, Uncle Luke,” Jacen said.

He couldn’t help but laugh. This was one time he wished the Force didn’t run quite so strongly in the Skywalker family.

“I just need to talk to your mom and dad for a second, is that OK?” He tapped Jaina playfully on the nose; she looked as though she were on the verge of tears. “You worry too much. You get that from your mom.”

“Gee, thanks,” Leia said. “You know what? Uncle Luke hasn’t seen the new exhibit that just opened at the zoo. Why don’t you go and get changed and we’ll all go after lunch?”

Jaina eyed her mother with slight suspicion, but eventually nodded. At last, she said, “OK,” then gave Luke a quick peck on the cheek before running off with the boys.

He watched and waited until they had disappeared into their rooms and were out of ear shot, then he turned back to Han and Leia, who had come across the room to sit down in front of him.

“Why do I get the feeling we’re not going to talk about the weather?” Han said.

“Because you know me too well.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.”

Luke grinned, in spite of himself. He had a feeling Leia could already sense what it was, even before he spoke. Still, she didn’t say anything, waiting for him to make the first move.

“It’s about Callista.”

Han straightened immediately. “Oh,” he said. Luke saw him glimpse briefly at Leia, as though to exchange a knowing look with her. “Did she... Has she contacted you?”

Luke shook his head. “No, but... No, she hasn’t.”

“You were thinking about her last night,” Leia said. “I’m right about that, aren’t I?”

Luke broke the eye contact and looked down at the holopad. It had looped back around to Callista again.

“She’s in danger,” he said at last. “I don’t know exactly what it is, or even when it’ll happen, but… whatever it is, I know it’s going to happen soon, and I know I need to find her.”

There was silence for a few beats, then Han was the first to speak.

“Look, kid, I know you miss her…”

“That’s not what this is, Han-”

 “… and you’ve got every right to, I guess, but-”

“It’s not what it looks like, all right??”

It was a knee-jerk reaction to defend himself, though he knew Han wasn’t attacking him in any way. But even he could hear how it must have sounded, and he stopped to take a deep breath and compose himself.

“I had a dream last night,” he said.

“And you think this may have been some sort of premonition?”

Luke nodded.

Han let out a sigh. His face was unreadable; Luke knew that Han had always had difficulty believing some of the Jedi’s powers, but he also knew that Han trusted his instincts, even if he didn’t always trust the Force.

“Something was chasing her… coming after her, and… it caught up to her eventually...”

“And you’re sure this is going to happen?”

“Luke, you know that these visions aren’t always what they seem,” Leia said. When he looked up to meet her eyes, she said quickly, “You know that I believe you, but… we both know that when we’re not objective, our minds can trick us-”

“That’s not what…” He sighed. “You have to trust me on this. Please. I need to know that you trust me.”

Leia’s eyes flitted towards Han, and Luke saw him give a small nod.

After a while, she said, “Of course I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

She reached out and closed her hand over his, giving it a quick squeeze.

He returned the gesture, then said softly, “I have to go to her.”

_Save yourself, Luke_...

Neither Han nor Leia said anything for a long time. Finally, Leia broke the silence.

“Lando’s got connections all over the galaxy...”

The simple words were enough to light a spark within him.

“We’ll find her. Wherever she is.”

She pulled him into an embrace, and the warmth of her contact eased the frazzled thoughts that had held his mind hostage since last night. He wondered if she could see the horrible visions herself: the fragmented memory of a frightened Callista reaching out to him in vain.

And him, unable to get to her in time.

_Save yourself, Luke_...

Her voice had been so calm, so resigned--though he knew it belied the fear inside her.

As if afraid to let go, Leia continued to hold him, and he felt her reach out to him in the Force with the lightest of touches--no prodding, no prying, no treading in the private areas of his thoughts. Just a promise of reassurance. He turned his head to kiss her cheek, silently letting her know he was all right.

“If she even wants to be found.”

Luke saw Leia shoot a sharp look at her husband. Han tensed visibly for a moment, clearly regretting the flippant comment. “I’m sorry, Luke, I didn’t mean it that way-”

“I know.”

“Look, she’s been gone a long time,” Han said. “I know she loved you, but... she may not want to resurface after all these years. Are you ready for that possibility?”

The answer was no. But Luke couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

“If it comes to that...” He was unable to finish the sentence. “I have to try.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again, kid. Just… be careful, all right?”

Luke smiled. In his own way, Han had always been like an older brother watching over him, even during the times when he didn’t feel like he needed one.

“I will. Jedi’s honor.”

In truth, Luke couldn’t blame Han for how he felt. He knew how the situation must have looked to everyone. His students, his friends, his family--they had all probably wanted to say the same words to him at some point, but for some reason or another, stopped short of doing so.

The very thought of anyone passing judgment on Callista tore at him. The knowledge that Callista would be remembered for the way she left, not the way she loved him, hurt more than the emptiness she left in her wake. Perhaps to everyone else, what she did looked like a selfish act. An act of cowardice. But Luke knew the true reasons--the agonizing reasons--why she had left--why she continued to stay away.

He had been tempted over the years to explain, but never had.

What good would it do? Making them understand wouldn’t bring her back.

His eyes rested on Leia’s once again,  and the subtle smile in them comforted him.

She knew.

Leia had been with Callista on Nam Chorios, had seen firsthand the anguish he remembered in his lover’s eyes when she bid him farewell. Leia had formed her own bond with Callista, and shared silently in Luke’s grief when she left. Leia--more than anyone--understood why Luke had mourned the loss of the gentle, strong-willed beauty who had come into his life in a sudden but all-too brief whirlwind. An unforgettable force of nature.

Leia understood why he had to find her.

“Luke,” she said, slipping her arm through his, “we’ve got the resources to do an extensive search.”  With her other hand, she lifted his down-turned chin to meet her eyes. _I promise you we’ll find her_, she whispered through the Force.

The certainty in her eyes made Luke smile.

_Thank you_, he whispered back. _Thank you for understanding_.

_Callista, I won’t let you down. I promise_.

* * *

The storm showed no signs of dying down. Almost impossibly, it seemed to feed off the energy in the air, as water continued to spill forth from the unforgiving sky. It swirled and gushed as the winds shrieked above the frenzy of voices on the ark.

“What the hell is that?” Jeor shouted. Drops of water bounced off his body, as if repelled by the force his animated gestures. In the months that she had known the bruising, strapping water-rancher, Callista had never seen him this shaken and out of sorts. He convulsed and flailed, while behind him and beside him, the rest of the crew stood in stunned silence, their mouths agape at the mysterious object they had fished out of the sea.

No one knew what to make of this shocking discovery.

Still aching from having been thrown against the ark--her head pounding and the world spinning around her like a kaleidoscope--Callista tried to focus on the object nevertheless. She rose slowly and stumbled towards it.

The pale moonlight cast an eerie light over its smooth metal casing, over the harsh features of the man inside. Something about the look frozen on his face beckoned Callista, and she had to force herself to look away from him. She shut her eyes, gingerly running her hand down the edge of the block--forgetting for one blessed moment that the Force was still so far beyond her grasp. Instinct, habit, had gotten the better of her. What had once come so easily--to touch something and feel its essence come alive beneath her fingertips--was all but impossible now. Her eyes flew open upon remembering, upon feeling nothing but the cold, dead feel of metal.

_Can’t count on that trick anymore_.

She felt her cheeks blush as she looked up and saw that all eyes were on her.

“Cal, what do we do?” Jeor said. The shock had worn off his voice. Callista looked up to see him staring blankly at the carbonite. He knelt down beside her to examine it, extending his hand tentatively to touch it.

Callista brought her gaze back to the man inside the block. She ran her eyes up and down his encased body, noting the veins protruding in his neck, his lips, his gritted teeth--embossed in the metal like a much-labored piece of sculpture. His eyes were closed, mouth open in mid-scream.

His scream.

She could almost hear him screaming.

Though she was sure it wasn’t the Force that was feeding her this insight, Callista cringed as she suddenly saw the image of him--still alive and very much aware--being lowered into the pit, centimeter by agonizing centimeter. His animal-like wailing rang in her ears, so loud that she thought her head would burst.

_No... No... Who did this to you?_

“Cal? Callista?”

Jeor’s voice brought her back to the cold, wet shock of the present. She found herself panting, arms wrapped around herself in the pose of a frightened child. Her jumpsuit felt clammy against her skin--wet from the rain or her own sweat, she didn’t know.

“I don’t know if he’s still alive,” she told Jeor. She pushed her hair back behind her ears and bent down to search for the life system monitor. The lights flashed wildly at the side, catching her attention. “I think he’s still in hibernation,” she said, thumbing clumsily at the buttons, hoping she was reading the life signs correctly. “But I can’t... feel him...”

The helplessness she felt was almost too much to bear. She _should_ have been able to help. She could have--had she only had the Force.

But she didn’t.

“If he’s still alive then we have to free him,” Jeor said.

But Callista didn’t answer. Once again, the man’s screaming ripped into her, causing her to close her eyes for a few seconds in a vain attempt to quiet it down. “He was frightened of something,” she murmured.

“What?”

She looked back at Jeor. “Something was scaring him,” she repeated,  surprising even herself. Where was this coming from?

“How do you know that?” Jeor asked. In his eyes she saw slight panic--was he worried about her too?

“I’m fine,” she assured him, before he could even ask her. But the panic on his face remained.

“You got banged up pretty badly down there, Cal,” he said, reaching a hand to her bruised head. Callista recoiled involuntarily as his hand brushed against the still-sore bump on her crown.

“I’m fine,” she insisted through clenched teeth. After taking a deep breath, she willed the pain to fade and continued more calmly, “I don’t know how I know this, Jeor, but... I... think I know what happened to him...”

After what seemed like an eternity, Jeor nodded at last. “I believe you,” he said. She saw him look up to the men behind her, then return his gaze on her. “But just the same, I want to get you both in there.” He held out his hand to help her up and turned nodded at the crew. “Come on, men!” he barked, and the crew rushed to the both of them. Jeor and Salmo helped a shaky Callista to her feet,  while the rest of the men followed them inside, levitating the heavy block and guiding it to the lower decks of the ark.

The raging pain in her head seemed to be getting worse by the second. In the water she had been fine, had even managed to  somehow claw her way up to the deck again--but now as the adrenaline was beginning to recede, she felt a wave of nausea pass through her, and her vision started to blur. Jeor and Salmo gripped her arms to keep her upright, but  Callista didn’t know how much longer she could keep conscious.

“Thank the Force you’re all ri--Callista!!”

It was Manzir’s voice, filled with terror as she saw them from the end of the gangway.

“I think she’s got a concussion, Mother!” she head Jeor say. “We’ve got to get her inside.”

“No, I’ll be... fine...” Callista mumbled. “I just need to sit... I need to sit.”

“Don’t try you being a hero again!” Manzir shot back, taking her arm from Jeor and leading her into the mess hall. Though Callista’s head still ached, at least the nausea had passed, and her legs began to feel steady once again. With Manzir’s help, she eased herself onto a chair.

“Jeor,” she said, looking up at him, “Where is he? We have to free him... There’s no telling how long he’s been trapped like that...”

“You’re hurt, Callista,” Manzir said, wrapping her arms around her. “It’s all right, we’ve got you...”

Callista saw several of the crew members enter the room, the block of carbonite floating effortlessly before them and she made a gesture to get up, only to be stopped by Manzir.

“Just sit still, please...” she said, trying to hold Callista down. “Jeor, what is she talking about? What happened out there-” Manzir stopped mid-sentence as she turned and finally saw what had Callista so riveted. She turned back to look at Callista, her face etched with a mixture of fear and fascination. “What is that? _Who_... is that...?”

“I don’t know,” Callista answered. “But there’s still a chance he’s alive and we can’t waste much more time...” She fought the urge to stumble as she got up, and made her way to the block, turning behind her to look at Jeor.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Who knows what shape he’ll be in...”

Callista nodded back, then pressed the button to let it drop to the ground. She knelt down and with a deep breath, turned the knobs at the side. In silence, they all stood, watching the solid block glow and slowly evaporate into nothingness.

First a quick twitch in the fingers. Then the lips quivered, the eyes blinked.

And a few moments later, came the scream.

“No!!!!!!!!!!!”

“It’s all right,” Callista said, grabbing on to the man’s arms as he thrashed them about. “You’re safe now...”

“No!” he screamed again. “They’re coming! We have to hide...”

Callista looked helplessly at Jeor, and he rushed over to help her hold him down.

“No one’s coming to get you,” Jeor told him. “We’ve freed you. You’re safe with us.”

The man stopped fighting. Jeor and Callista exchanged curious glances and slowly released their grip from his wrists. His eyes were wide open, looking at the empty space before him, though Callista knew that he would be blind from the hibernation sickness.

“Can you tell us who you are?” Callista whispered. “We’re here to help you...”

The man trembled as he inhaled, as if struggling to find his vocal chords. With great effort, he finally spoke. “If they find us,” he whispered, “They will kill us...”


	4. Chapter 4

Her head didn’t hurt anymore.

 

It was the first thing Callista noticed when she woke from a deep but restless sleep. The dreams, though… she remembered the dreams had been terrible. The biting cold of the water against her delicate skin... The savage howl of the winds... The pale, gaunt face of the man they had freed from captivity... The uninvited images would have kept anyone awake, but fatigue and the massive dose of medicine she’d been given had pulled her into heavy slumber, trapping her in the nightmare.

 

Outside, not a hint of the tumultuous events of the early morning remained. The still ocean waters gently rocked the ark, telling Callista that the mighty storm had finally come and gone. Through the see-through clouds in the pale blue sky, the blinding sunlight forced its way into her window, as if overjoyed by its newfound freedom.

 

It was as if everything that she had seen and heard and felt in the early morning hours had been nothing but a cruel hoax--one that had vaporized with the morning fog.

 

But of course, she knew better.

 

No longer crippled by mind-numbing pain, she attempted to sit up in bed--until a hint of light-headedness threatened to take hold of her at any moment, and she quickly bowed to its whim. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, her head still sore where the bump touched the cold metal. Instinctively, she reached up to touch the sore spot, gritting her teeth and drawing a sharp breath of air as she did.

 

Just a few more seconds_, _she negotiated with herself. Gripping her pillows, she summoned all her energy to enter a brief meditative state, hoping to rid herself of the dizziness.  If she could just stay here for a few more seconds, she would be all right to move again.

 

Grogginess lingered like a thin layer of fog on her brain. She vaguely remembered the stab of perigen that a frantic Manzir had administered in the wee hours of the morning, when she had begun to slip dangerously in and  out of consciousness again. Pieces of early morning came to her now in disjointed images: Jeor and Manzir standing just beyond her--two hazy figures who gestured wildly and spoke in hushed tones. Their words seemed random and senseless to Callista, like a foreign language she only half-understood as blackness loomed over her.

It hurt just to think.

 

“It’s worse than I thought!” Jeor barked at someone. Now he was on the other side of the room--how did he get there? Had she blacked out without even realizing it? She couldn’t quite make out who stood by his side as he shouted, though from the way the shoulders slumped, it must have been Salmo.

 

Panic swept through her as her hand felt something warm and wet trickle from the bump in her head. Before she could even react, she heard Jeor shout, “She’s bleeding!” Through half-closed eyes, she saw him call for help, arms swinging in all directions like a malfunctioning droid experiencing a bad burnout. The coppery smell of her own blood caked on her matted curls burned her nostrils--the only thing keeping her from succumbing to unconsciousness altogether.

 

“Somebody get the med kit down here now!”

 

She must have been fighting to sit up. Manzir gently held her down, pinning her arms to the floor. Too weak to loosen her wrists from Manzir’s grip, Callista could only lie there, descending into the quicksand of pain as the old woman said over and over again, “Please, Callista, stay still... You’re going to be all right, but you have to stay still...”

 

“You hang on, Cal,” Jeor told her. He was back at her side. “Help is coming, don’t you worry...”

 

“Jeor,” she murmured, “Where is he?” The pain tearing at her skull seemed inconsequential now--more important was helping the man they had freed, whom Callista could no longer see in the distance. “What happened when I was out? Where-”

 

“Shh…” Manzir slid one hand under Callista’s head, pulling her gently into her lap, while the other hand squeezed Callista’s hand. “Easy, now… Don’t worry about that right now, my child, you have to relax...”

 

Her lids felt heavy, as if lead weights hung from the tips of her lashes, but she struggled to keep her eyes open. Perhaps he was still there, but she was just too dazed to see him. He had to be there. He had to.

 

“We have to help him... Didn’t you see how scared he was?”

 

“Shh..”

 

_It hurts... It hurts so much_...

 

The pain was excruciating. It pressed on her crown with the weight of a thousand Gamorrean boars stomping their angry feet, pounding away indiscriminately with their fists. Hot, fat tears rolled down her face, mingling with her sweat as she fought to stay awake. She felt darkness rapidly approaching and overtaking her, until the welcome shock of Manzir’s shot took her by surprise. With the perigen came a glorious wave of relief that washed over her. Callista closed her eyes and gave in to the sweet release, feeling her breath slow down and the throbbing in her head ease.

 

“We have to... do... something...” she whispered one last time, as the pain slowly drifted away. “We have to...”

 

_We have to do something_...

 

The words echoed in Callista’s mind like a broken holovid as she shielded her eyes from the sun’s rays. With some effort, she rolled over--gingerly, so should wouldn’t invite dizziness--to catch a glimpse of the chronometer on her nightstand. _No_, she groaned. It was a little over 1400 hours, which meant she had been asleep for more than ten hours now. The medicine had packed a punch, knocking her out for the rest of the morning. What still remained in her bloodstream now caused her to stumble slightly as she rose from bed.

 

“He’s got to be here somewhere,” she whispered, once again remembering the man.

 

Remembering his wailing and the thrashing of his arms. The wild fear in his eyes. The words he spoke that had made her shudder:

 

_If they find us... They will kill us..._

There was something about him she couldn’t shake, from the moment she laid eyes on the coffin-like case that had gleamed a cool silver in the weak moonlight. Something about him had grabbed her by the throat and refused to let go. It was as if she could--however vaguely--sense him, though everything in her said it was impossible.

 

Hadn’t she already learned that painful lesson more than once?

 

Still she had to wonder, if this wasn’t the Force that was guiding her, whispering in her ear, then... What was it?

 

_You are still a Jedi..._

Luke had told that her once, after one of their grueling practice sessions had left her drained, physically and emotionally. When the dam holding her tears back finally broke and gushed, he had held her close and kissed her, telling her with mere gesture that this too would pass in time. His arms became her sanctuary, absorbing all the frustration and bitterness and disappointment. Even now, she could still hear the certainty in his voice and recall the unwavering faith in his eyes.

 

“However empty you feel without the Force,” he said, the strength of him somehow awakening her own resolve, “you will always have the heart and soul of a Jedi. Never forget that.”

He could always make her believe in the impossible.

 

 Silently, she whispered a thank you to him, and part of her almost believed that he could hear it--through time and distance and emptiness in the Force.

 

He was right. She may have lost her most powerful ally--the very thing that once gave her powers she had only barely tapped into before they slipped away from her--but she had not lost her knowledge or her instincts.

 

And her instincts told her she had to find the man.

 

The hall was silent and empty when she stepped outside her cabin. Darkness obscured one end of the upward sloping passageway, while light emanated from the opposite end. The wooden floor beneath her creaked lightly as she made her way up the hallway. She had to be careful. Manzir would scold her, she knew, if the old woman caught her sneaking outside of her room only a few hours after she had suffered a bad concussion. But Callista was determined to risk it anyway.

 

There was a mystery waiting to be solved, and she would be the one to do it.

 

“Callista? What are you doing up?”

 

Callista gasped and swung around. There, stepping out from under the shadows was a concerned Salmo, looking even smaller and more frail than usual as he looked back at her with concern.

 

“I didn’t see you there,” she said, laughing.

 

Salmo smiled without looking in her eyes. “I... I was just coming to see you... to see how you were,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He laughed as he came closer. “That’s funny, huh? Me scaring someone?”

 

Callista suppressed a smile. Sweet and unassuming, Salmo was the polar opposite of his father, both in personality and in appearance. The sight of them together was almost laughable—Jeor, a hulking mass of a man, and Salmo, small and meek next to his side. Jeor’s blustering persona threatened to swallow the timid Salmo whole at times.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked. Greasy locks of fair hair fell in his eyes as he spoke—Callista guessed that he must have purposely grown his hair long to avoid looking people straight in the eyes—and he inched just a bit closer to her, as if wanting to make sure she was really all right.

 

“I’m still a little shaky,” she admitted, “but considering everything, I guess I’m feeling a lot better.” She let out an exasperated laugh and caught a glimpse of Salmo’s chagrined smile before he took his eyes away from her and focused on the ground beneath him, his face red-hot with embarrassment.

 

Manzir had told her of the young man’s crush on her, and though Callista was flattered, she wasn’t quite sure how to handle his infatuation. Romance had never even crossed her mind in the last few years. It would have felt too much like betraying Luke.

 

“You scared us all last night,” he said, eyes still cast downward. “I’m… glad you’re all right now…”

 

Callista gave him a grateful smile. “I have to admit I got a little scared there myself,” she said. “But thanks to you, they were able to help me right away. I remember it was you that got the med kit, Salmo. If it hadn’t been for the perigen…”

 

Blood rushed to his pale cheeks again and he looked down on the ground as he nodded. “You were hurt—I wanted to do what I could,” he said softly. Finally he looked up, his light brown eyes saucer-wide, as if silently pleading with her. “Cal, I’d… feel a lot better if you’d go back and rest…”

 

Callista started to say something, then paused and simply turned her head behind her to look at the end of the long hallway. “Salmo, what happened to the man after we freed him?” she said simply, hoping he’d at least give her some grain of information. “I… don’t remember much… I remember coming to and he was gone…”

 

He grimaced and took a deep breath. From the look on his face—the pursed lips and the hesitant eyes, Callista knew something _had_ happened when she was unconscious. “He went out of control again, Cal. After you managed to get him to calm down, he lost it again, and we had to hold him down somehow. You passed out, and we managed to give him a tranquilizer and get him to a room.”

 

“Where is he now?”

 

Salmo gestured down the passageway. “Up there,” he said, pointing to one of the rooms a few doors from Callista’s cabin. “He’s been sleeping all morning. Father’s been in there keeping an eye on him in case he wakes up.”

 

Callista looked at the room he motioned towards and nodded. Cautiously, she asked, “Can I see him?”

 

She saw his shoulders tense, go up involuntarily as he drew and held his breath. “You really shouldn’t even be up, Cal,” he said. “After the shape you were in…”

 

“I promise you I’ll take it easy,” she assured him. “I just… I need to see him. I can’t explain why…”

 

For a few minutes, Salmo didn’t make a move. Callista could tell he was debating inwardly about whether to help her or not, his face wrinkled in concentration, his eyes darting back and forth from her to the room behind her. Finally he nodded.

 

“Grandmother’s going to kill me if she finds out you’re up,” he said, giving her a weary smile. “Come on, follow me.”

* * *

“What is she doing out of her room?” demanded Jeor, albeit without his usual vociferousness as he cast a sideways glance at the still-sleeping man, as if to ensure that he had not woken him.

 

“Salmo, I thought I told you to check on her?”

 

The younger man shrank, his voice dropping to a timid whisper. “I... I did, Father,” he stammered. “I went to see her like you said-”

 

Callista stepped in between the two men. “Jeor, it’s not his fault,” she interjected, holding up her hand to the disgruntled captain, though she knew he would never under any circumstances lay a hand on his own son. “He _did_ come to see me, only... I had already snuck out of my room.” Before Jeor could answer, Callista quickly added, “You know me--stubborn fishrider, right?”

 

He let out a resigned sigh and shook his head. “What am I going to do with you,” he mumbled through his beard. Callista saw one corner of his mouth creep upward in a reluctant smile. “Tell me you’re going to take better care of yourself? I’ve already got one child, I can’t be worrying about another one, too...”

 

She grinned back, for a moment reminded of the times she would manage a sign of capitulation from her own iron-willed father.

 

How she missed him.

 

His face came to her, the sad eyes that spoke of his heartbreak even as he wished her well on her journey to follow Djinn. He had never understood her decision to leave, nor had he ever understood the gift that his daughter had even at an early age. But he had let her follow her calling--away from him, away from his world, away from his way of life.

 

At times like these, Jeor reminded her of him: the way he looked at her with concern and strange wonder, as if there were part of her he couldn’t understand.

 

“So what do you say,” she said, clearing her throat, “Truce?”

 

He chuckled under his breath. “You’re lucky I’m a forgiving man, young lady.”

 

Callista smirked and gave Salmo a mischievous wink. “I always knew you were a softie at heart, right Salmo?”

 

“Hey, do ya mind? I’ve got a reputation to protect! Don’t be going around spreading malicious gossip like that, Cal...”

 

He managed a tired laugh as he rubbed at his face and covered a yawn. Callista noticed his bloodshot eyes, rimmed with exhaustion and worry. “Look at you,” she said softly, laying a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you and Salmo get some sleep? You can’t have gotten much sleep since yesterday,  let me take this shift for a while...”

 

Jeor said nothing for a moment. She had expected him to protest--to bristle at her suggestion that she be left alone with a stranger who only hours ago had to be restrained. She watched him stare at the man in silence, as if committing every detail to memory. Finally turned to her and released a low sigh. “Yeah, I am pretty beat,” he admitted. “But you’re sure... You’re sure you’re going to be fine in here? What if-”

 

 “It’ll be all right, don’t worry,” Callista said, before he could even finish the thought. She wasn’t even sure if this was courage or just plain blind naïveté that was speaking for her, but she nonchalantly brushed aside his concern and gave him a reassuring smile. “Go on... Get some rest, both of you. I know you must need it.”

 

Halfway to the door, Jeor paused and turned back to face her. “You’ll call us, right?” he said, “If anything should happen? You saw what he did before... You don’t know what he’ll be like when he wakes up...”

 

“I’ll call for help the minute don’t feel safe--I promise.”

 

Jeor exchanged worried glances with Salmo. For a moment, Callista thought he had changed his mind and decided to stay, but then he finally nodded. “Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t be too worried... You Jedi can take care of yourselves, can’t you?”

 

She laughed softly in spite of herself. “They did teach us a trick or two, yeah.”

 

He threw one more cautious look at the sleeping man. “Be careful,” he said simply, before the door slid shut behind them.

 

As soon as the words left his mouth, Callista felt an unmistakable brush of coolness ripple through her, and she had to physically resist the urge to shudder.

 

But why would there be anything to fear?

 

And yet somehow, some tiny part of her knew the answer to the question, though she couldn’t quite form the words in her mind at that very moment.

 

The hours passed slowly as she sat in the stillness of the small, musty room. She’d lost track of the time she had spent watching him closely, listening to him breathing, waiting for any sign of alertness. After a while, she had stared at him so  long that his every feature became ingrained in her memory: the sickly-white flesh that had surely not seen the sun in a long time; the long, bony fingers that twitched every few minutes as he dreamt; the small, narrow eyes that remained shut in deep sleep.

 

But what alarmed Callista the most as she looked on him, was the hint of youth in the man’s face. Despite the almost deathly pallor and the harsh, rough skin, she could have sworn that he was no more than twenty years old.

 

_Who could have done this to you_...

 

Callista jerked forward as she suddenly saw the man’s eyes twitch and then flutter open. Her heart stalled in her throat--would he scream again? Would he leap out of bed and lunge at her? Holding her breath, she stood still, waiting for him to make his next move, then she allowed her self to relax a bit when she saw that he had made no effort to move from his spot.

 

He continued to lie there, limp and lifeless, his colorless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

 

“Have... you been here long?”

 

His rough, sandpaper voice, that of someone who had gone for months, years--maybe even decades--without speaking sat low on Callista’s ears. She crept closer towards him, careful not to make any sudden moves that might alarm him. He was still blind, that much she knew about hibernation sickness, and yet he knew she was in the room...

 

“A few hours,” she told him. “We wanted to make sure you were... safe...”

 

“Thank you,” he rasped. Then, “Where am I?”

 

She walked over to his side. “You’re on Jeor Goresh’s ark. Jeor was the one who found you in the water.”

 

He shut his eyes momentarily and drew a deep breath. When he finally exhaled, he turned his blank eyes in her direction. “Then I’m still on Chad.”

 

“Yes,” she nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Yes, you’re on Chad. We freed you from the carbonite yesterday...”

 

“Who... Who are you?”

 

“My name is Callista. I’m a Jed—I’m a water rancher. On Jeor’s crew.”

 

She heard him swallow.

 

“What are you going to do with me?”

 

“Don’t be afraid---we’re here to help. I know this must be a lot to process right now, but… do you remember what happened? How long you might have been frozen?”

 

He shook his head. “One tends to lose track of time in this situation.”

 

“I suppose you’re right,” Callista replied, chuckling softly. “It’s all right, we don’t have to figure it all out right now. This has got to be a little overwhelming for you...”

 

With arms that shook, he planted his hands firmly on the bed to push himself up, and Callista reached a hand to help him sit. A sudden shock, like an electric current that ripped through her body, nearly throttled her back when she touched him. Surprised and perplexed, she released her hold on him immediately and stared back at him in a daze.

 

“Are you still here?”

 

“Yes,” Callista managed, hoping to cover up her slight anxiety. “Yes, right here…”

 

Logic told her  that nothing had just happened--nothing physical, anyway. Nothing but one human being touching another. And yet, the mere contact had made her pull back instantaneously. It was as if an instinct she couldn’t quite identify had snatched her hand away from him.

 

Something was not right.

 

“I thought I had made you nervous,” he with a small smile.

 

“Of course not,” she answered quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly.

 

The smile on his face widened, and something about it made Callista uneasy, though she shoved the thought out of her mind.

 

“You’re a Jedi... aren’t you?”

 

Callista felt the blood drain from her face. “A Jedi?” she said, making sure to add an incredulous laugh for good measure. “Here, on Chad? There aren’t a whole lot of them to go around these days, and what few there are aren’t exactly milling about on a backdoor world like this.”

 

His face registered a mild surprise.

 

“Not a lot of them? Really?”

 

“The Empire wasn’t exactly fond of them, was it?”

 

“Right,” he said. His eyebrows came together in bewilderment. “I don’t suppose so.”

 

“Anyway, I told you. I’m a water rancher. I’m a helluva lot more useful in these parts than a Jedi would ever be.”

 

Inside her ribs, her heart battered wildly, though she didn’t quite know why she was so afraid to tell him the truth. Didn’t know why her first instinct was to close her mind--purge it of emotion, of vulnerability. She took her hand away from her lightsaber, where it had been resting, and clasped her hands behind her.

 

But why would he have ever asked her such a question?

 

“Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry, I must have been mistaken.” He smiled the curious smile again.

 

“I thought… You see, a Jedi can always tell the presence of another.”

 

Callista felt as if someone had reached in and seized the air out of her lungs. She swallowed hard and cautiously, calmly--as calmly as she could--said, “You’re a Jedi?”                 




 

“Yes.” Then, after a beat, he said, “I suppose the… Empire hasn’t gotten to me yet.”

 

“Guess not.”

 

He had no reason to lie. No reason to deliberately mislead her. And yet, everything in Callista screamed,_ No!! Don’t believe him!!_

 

“That’s why I thought... Well... I’m probably not in the right state of mind right now, what with all that’s happened...”

 

“Yes, you’ve been through quite the ordeal.”

 

He closed his eyes once more and rubbed his face. “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I think I’d better get some more rest... I still feel like hell.”

 

“Of course... I’ll let you get back to sleep...”

 

She watched him slide back down into the bed and pull the sheets over him. For a few moments, she stood listening, waiting for his breath to slow into a tell-tale rhythm. Wanting to make sure he was really sleeping.

 

Terrified that if she left, the unthinkable would happen.

 

But… what was that exactly?

 

When she finally tore herself away from his side and slipped out of his room, she nearly shrieked after she ran into Jeor, who had stood waiting just outside.

 

“Do you always sneak up like that on people?” she said, laughing nervously as she recovered from the fright.

 

“I’m sorry, Cal,” he said. He reached a hand to her shoulder and tilted his head to look at her more closely. “Are you all right? You look like someone’s sucked all the blood out of you... Wait a minute, did he-”

 

“No, nothing happened, don’t worry.” She squeezed his hand to reassure him. “He did wake up, and... we talked... That’s all. And after a while, he said he needed to get back to sleep...”

 

He released her hand and brushed past her to walk to the door. “I’m glad he didn’t try anything funny,” he said. Callista guessed he was half-joking, though she knew there was genuine concern on his part. “So... You think he’ll be fine in there?”

 

 “Yeah, he seemed out cold when I left,” she said, nodding weakly. She watched him start to leave for his own room, and then she called out to him one more time. “Jeor...”

 

He turned towards her.

 

Tell him what? She wasn’t even sure what she had experienced in the room... “Nothing,” she said, waving her hand to dismiss the thought. “Call me if... If anything happens.”

 

“You know I will.”

 

And even as he gave her a smile of affirmation, a feeling of cold dread spread through her bones as she walked back to her cabin.

* * *

Callista turned her lightsaber over and over in her hand. Light glinted forth from its metal casing, darting in her eyes, reflecting the weak glow of the lamp on her nightstand. She had sat like this for hours in the stillness of her room--for exactly how long, she could no longer remember. Endlessly, mechanically, she examined the weapon cradled in her hands, feeling its smooth grooves underneath her fingertips, feeling its weight, its substance. At long last, she raised her head to look ahead of her, at the blank walls behind which, only a short distance away, the stranger slept.

 

Even hours later, the shock of his presumption--made with such unexpected certainty that it had taken Callista aback--resonated within her.

 

_You’re a Jedi... aren’t you?_

 

The mere recollection of the words sent a icy chill slicing through her.

She resisted a shudder and looked down again at the lightsaber she held, as much a part of her as her arm. Her heart. Her soul. Crafted with care and forged with a fire that had always burned within her even before she had known her true calling. Before she had known the Force had a name. “Yes,” she murmured, closing her hand on its steel handle, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline sweep through her. “I am a Jedi...”

 

With or without the Force, she was a Jedi, and nothing would ever change that.

 

To deny it seemed downright unfathomable. And yet, she had done it so easily in the presence of the stranger--denied it without even a second thought.

Why had she lied?

What was it that had risen from the very depths of her core to insist that he must not know the truth?

 

_Who are you_...

In her early morning daze, she had been so eager to see him, even help him. Now she suspected that the undeniable curiosity that had driven her to his room, in spite of her wooziness from exhaustion and the remnants of drugs, had been something more--much more.

 

Perhaps part of her had already known...

 

“Cal!!!” The furious pounding on her door broke the silence and jolted her from her reverie.

 

“Jeor?” she called out tentatively. It was after midnight--what would have brought him to her room at this hour? She punched the wall panel and the door slid open to reveal a shaken Jeor, his face beet-red in the dim light. “What is it,, what’s wrong?” she said, gripping his trembling arm as she led him inside. “Get in here...”

 

She watched him open and close his mouth in several failed attempts to speak, as if his vocal chords were somehow paralyzed. With his free arm, he pointed in the direction of the stranger’s room. “He’s... He’s...” The words seemed lodged in his throat, struggling to come out but not quite succeeding. For a moment, she barely recognized him--stripped of all his customary self-confident bravado, he was as flustered and out of sorts as he had been nearly twenty-four hours ago when they brought the block of carbonite out of the raging sea.

 

“Jeor, you’re scaring me,” she said gently, trying her best to calm him down. “What is it? Tell me what’s going on...”

 

She saw him heave his torso up to take a deep inhale, and she continued to hold on to his arm, as if the mere act of doing so would help steady him. “He’s gone,” he managed to get out, his hand clutching hers with the tightest of grips.

 

“What?”

 

“He’s gone, Cal... I... went to check on him, and...”

 

“But how can that be? He could barely get out of bed just a few hours ago...” Callista released his hand and stumbled into the hallway, blindly heading in the direction of the man’s room.

 

“I’m telling you, he’s gone,” she heard Jeor cry out after her.

 

He was right. She stuck her head in cautiously at first--in case he hid somewhere in the shadows. But nothing jumped from the darkness. Inside, nothing remained but the rumpled bed sheets and the stale stink of enclosed air.

 

The young man had indeed vanished.

 

She heard Jeor walk up behind her and felt his ragged breath on the nape of her neck. She turned to face him and said, “No one saw anything? Heard anything? Are we sure he’s not somewhere else on the ship-”

 

“No.” Jeor shook his head firmly. “He’s nowhere on the ark, Cal. I looked everywhere. I didn’t want to get you until I knew for sure... But... he’s gone.”

 

Callista made her way to the window inside the small room and peered outside to look at the freezing waters where they had found him last night. “Why,” she whispered, and looked back at Jeor. “What could have-”

 

She froze, once again remembering the shocking sensation that had stunned her when she touched his arm. “Oh no...”

 

The shiver that she had resisted earlier now rumbled once more through her body with the force of  a devastating earthquake. She shook her head again and again, as if she simply could not accept the realization that had just descended on her like water gushing forth from the sky.

 

A realization that a long dead ghost had sent to her from the grave.

 

“It _was_ true,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above her raspy breath as an isolated morning more than thirty-five years ago suddenly came rushing back to her, so fast that she had to gasp for air. “Master Djinn, it was true...”

 

“What’s true? Cal, what are you talking about?”

 

His hand reached for hers in concern and she looked up at him, half-formed tears of fright blurring her vision. “I know who he is,” she said. “I know where he’s gone...”

 

Jeor stared back at her with incredulous eyes. “How...”

 

In her mind’s eye she saw Djinn standing before his hushed students, his deep, soothing voice as clear in her mind as it had been all those years ago. He had given countless lectures aboard the _Chu’unthor_, stories and legends recounted from his vast memory that had fascinated his students. There were so many he had told that Callista could scarcely remember some of them now, including one she had all but forgotten until that very moment.

 

And now it was all she could do to shake it from her memory.

 

“There were ten of them,” she remembered her master saying. “Ten young men who vowed their brotherhood of darkness would not be destroyed--by Jedi or Sith.”

 

She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to sink further in time, past the dark and empty corridors of her mind, through the haze and uncertainty, to one moment, crystal-clear in her consciousness.

 

And in her mind, she began to recite the long-buried story from the depths of her recollection.

_So they made a pact... They spread out to the far reaches of the galaxy to avoid capture. And they promised to preserve themselves somehow, so they could rise again when their time came..._

_The legend of the Rogue Sith..._

 

Her eyes flew open and went straight to Jeor’s, her knees weak with the new-found knowledge of what they had unwittingly awakened. Now he was the one who held her arm to steady her.

_ He’s going to try to find the others... He’s going to bring them back to life, one by one..._

 

“There are more of them out there,” she said, well aware of the horror in her voice. “All of them, frozen in carbonite...”

 

“Who? Cal, what are you-”

 

“Jeor, listen to me,” she said, knowing he would not like what she was about to say. “I can’t explain it, but... I have to go after him-”

 

“What?! Are you crazy? You think after all that’s happened here I’m going to let you out of my sight?”

 

“You have to trust me on this,” she insisted. “Please...”

 

His eyes softened in surrender, and he released the hold on her arm. “What am I going to do with you,” he said, a glint of amusement in the shadows on his face.

 

She smiled back at him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

 

She reached for the lightsaber that swung from her hip, like a drowning man reaching for a life preserver.

 

Luke… his face came to her, beautiful against the backdrop of the setting Yavin sun.

Luke has to know.

 

She had no choice. She had spent the last five years running away from him, from the love that had been her one true salvation. But now she had to return--even if it meant facing the lover she never thought she would face again. Because he was in danger.

 

And she would rather die than see him in danger.


	5. Chapter 5

The smell of Gamorrean sweat was unforgettable.

 

Anyone who had ever had the tragic  misfortune of standing close enough to a full-grown boar for even a few minutes never forgot the distinctive scent that emanated from its sweat glands. Luke stood only a few meters away from a large group of boars deeply engrossed in their training, gathering and forming into a clumsy line. As he watched them wield their heavy weapons, their feet pounding into the slush and mud and melted snow, Luke could almost swear that he was back in the dark, dungeon-like entrance of Jabba’s Palace, where he had strode in wearing a cloak of serene confidence--a self-assurance that even he hadn’t even known he was capable of until he had been put to the test.

 

That seemed like a lifetime ago now, a different world, a different person who’d walked into Jabba’s court. But today he would need that same self-assurance. He had marched into that palace with the grim hope of convincing the gangster to hand over his imprisoned best friend; now he would be called upon to use the same bargaining tactics to wrest valuable information from a notoriously surly Gamorrean clan-mother.

 

He just hoped that things would turn out better than the last time he had tried to bargain with an unwilling negotiator.

 

At least, thought Luke with a smile_, _he could be sure that there aren’t any rancors he could be fed to.

 

The endless gray of the skies above and the rain that tumbled forth from the pregnant clouds, soaking through his simple woven Jedi cloak, were enough to depress anyone. Gamorr was not a place to which he would ever willingly go--even if it hadn’t been slushtime, the planet’s most dreary season. If not for the slim possibility that he might find some sort of clue to Callista’s whereabouts here, he would never have journeyed to this part of the galaxy.

 

He remembered how his heart had fluttered at the tiny crumb of information that Lando had been able to ease out of an old contact a few days ago.

 

“She didn’t disappear completely, Luke,” Lando had told him, his cool, playboy smile wide on the holo that stood tall in Luke’s living room. There had been a distinct twinkle in his eyes upon saying the words, and it gave Luke hope that his old friend had good news to give him.

 

“Someone’s seen her, then? Or heard of her?”

 

“A few years ago, it seems.” Lando looked down and punched at the datapad in his hand. “She was on Gamorr, with some free-traders. She went by the name Callista Ming.”

 

_Ming. _

A shortened form of Cray’s name, Luke couldn’t help but note.

 

“There was another human with her, a slave, but the rest of her companions were all Gamorrean. They were docked on the planet for a while. It was slushtime--a big deal to Gamorreans, from what I know.”

 

Luke wrinkled his nose involuntarily, remembering the stench of Jabba’s pig guards when they had surrounded him to prevent him from passing through to their master’s throne room.

 

He heard Lando’s smooth-as-silk laugh float through the holo. “I see you remember them too. They can be nasty, I’ll give you that.”

 

“I’m impressed that you could tolerate them for months on end,” Luke said, unable to hide a grin. “I barely managed a day.”

 

“You do what you’ve got to do.”

 

“So you said they saw her there?”

 

“Yes, there was a songwriter, poet... Sebastin Onyx, I think his name was. He had worked there on Gamorr for a few years. He had met Callista briefly during her stay. One of her crewmates had gotten wrongfully accused of a murder and she was trying to clear his name. Onyx was one of the people she talked to for information on what had happened.”

 

That’s the Callista he knew well, Luke thought with a smile, feeling the pride swell within him. “Did he say what happened to her? Where she went after she left Gamorr? How long ago this was?”

 

Lando scanned the datapad once again, then glanced up and shook his head. “The data’s pretty spotty, Luke. I can’t tell whether this was a year ago or… five. Anyway, Onyx saw her just once more after that, at some feast. The free-traders left soon after.”

 

Luke could actually feel the disappointment physically enter his body as he slumped back in his chair.

 

“I see,” he said. “Well, it’s more than I knew a week ago. Thanks, Lando.”

 

_So close... _

 

“Wait… there’s something else on here that he said that might interest you...”

 

Luke straightened and without saying a word--he didn’t dare to--returned his eyes to the holo.

 

“Onyx told my buddy that the one in charge of that group of traders was a sow named Ugmush. Sound familiar?”

 

Luke felt his breath catch in his throat. “Ugmush... The Gamorrean that helped Threepio and Artoo when they were on Nam Chorios? The one who owned the _Zicreex_?”

 

“One and the same. Callista began traveling with them not long after she left Nam Chorios, Luke. She could still be with them, and--here’s another bit of information that you’ll like... Apparently, Ugmush returns to Gamorr every year. During slushtime.”

 

Luke leaned forward just a bit further, his heart beginning to drum in his ears. “And if I remember correctly...”

 

“That’s right,” Lando said, guiding Luke’s train of thought. “That means Ugmush is there right now. And so could Callista.”

 

_So could Callista_...

 

Lando’s words had made the ground beneath Luke’s feet move. He knew right then and there that he had to make his way to Gamorr one way or another.

 

Find his way to Callista.

_If she’s here_...

 

Luke swallowed hard, his mind an uncontrollable whirlwind of thoughts as he allowed himself to ponder the possibility of coming face to face with Callista again--after five long, agonizing years. He took a deep breath as he trudged through the muddy, monotonous terrain, his eyes eager for any sign of Ugmush’s slushtime home.

 

_If she’s here, I will take her in my arms and never let her go..._

 

Though the mere thought of it was enough to send the seductive sensation of adrenaline pumping through him, an inner voice spoke louder still: _she’s not here._ Luke knew that it was right. He would have known, felt  it in his bones.

 

He would have felt her. Even if the Force within her was silent.

 

Still, he would not have made the trek to this desolate planet if he hadn’t had the slightest bit of hope that Ugmush would have some clue to offer him. She had to know where Callista was. She was his best lead.

 

His only hope, really.

 

The rain swelled to a fury now. Raindrops as big as his fingers fell from the sky, obscuring his vision as he looked for any kind of landmark to tell him where he was. After a time, he paused to stand still and try to figure out where he was. He raised his head to the heavens, the dark gray skies reminding him of the color of Callista’s eyes when she was sad.

 

The color they were in her last message to him--the holo where she had pleaded for him to let her walk her own path.

_I have my own odyssey..._

 

He had let her go because she had asked him to. He had turned and walked away and tried to move on with his life, because he had no other choice. But now he needed to break his promise to stop searching for her.

Her life depended on it.

 

“Dear, oh dear... Master Luke, I’m afraid this landscape was just not meant for droids,” Threepio whined not too far behind him.

 

Luke turned and gave him an apologetic smile. “No, I suppose it’s not,” he admitted. He offered a hand to the beleaguered droid, extracting him from the sticky mud pile where Threepio’s golden legs had been entrenched.

 

“Oh my, I can barely move. Perhaps you should go on without me, Master Luke. I’ll only hold you back...”

 

Luke had learned over the years that it was best to humor Threepio when he was in a self-pitying mood. He bit his lip to keep from smiling and tugged just a bit harder on Threepio’s arm. “Come on now, you know what I think of that kind of talk,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

 

Still, he couldn’t help but feel guilty watching Threepio struggling in the mud-sodden fields. He knew that slushtime would be barely tolerable for humans, much less for droids who weren’t exactly built to withstand these kind of conditions, but he had needed his protocol droid’s interpreter skills and had little choice but to bring him. Gamorrean was not one of the languages in which Luke was particularly well-versed--he had encountered very few Gamorreans in his lifetime, save for the guards at Jabba’s palace and the ones the _Eye_ had harvested aboard. He doubted very much that the Huttese he had managed to pick up on Tatooine would have done him much good here, and though he knew Threepio would protest, he asked the reluctant droid and his counterpart to accompany him.

 

Artoo had halted upon seeing Threepio’s predicament, swiveling his domed head and sending a muffled warble his way that sounded suspiciously like a laugh to Luke.

 

He turned his head to smile at his mischievous astromech. “Behave yourself, Artoo,” he warned him.

 

“You heard Master Luke,” Threepio chimed in, now fully out of the mud and able to walk once again without aid. “I don’t want to hear about how your all-terrain gears can get through any kind of mud. Just because you were able to withstand the swamps on Dagobah with your-”

 

“All right, you two,” Luke interjected, feeling much like a weary parent trying to separate warring siblings. “Let’s take it easy now. You know these Gamorreans aren’t exactly fond of droids, and I’d rather not draw their attention our way...”

 

“Yes of course, sir,” Threepio apologized. But not five seconds later, he turned to the Astromech and said, “Now see what you’ve started, Artoo-”

 

 

“Threepio!”

 

“Shutting up, sir...”

 

Miraculously, the rain seemed to have eased somewhat, and Luke pulled the hood from his face to get a better look at his surroundings.

 

“Well,” he said, taking in the nondescript environment, “where do you suppose we are?”

 

“Artoo seems to think that we’re-”

 

Just a split second before a low, guttural rumble sounded through the air, Luke spun around instinctively, lightsaber ignited in an emerald blaze. Before him stood a gigantic boar, almost twice his size in width, waving a blaster rifle. The boar snarled and grunted, but made no move to attack him. Luke lowered and deactivated his blade in a gesture of appeasement.

 

“No, please! Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” Threepio exclaimed, while beside him Artoo screeched.

 

“It’s all right, relax.” Luke extended a hand towards them in an effort to quiet them. He knew that Gamorreans despised droids to begin with, had even seen firsthand the torture they liked to inflict on them. “Threepio, can you tell him we don’t mean any harm?”

 

The droid complied, his programmed voicebox suddenly transformed into a series of indistinguishable grunts.

 

In turn, the boar relented and lowered his weapon. He replied to Threepio, his voice far less fierce than it had been a mere second ago.

 

“He wants to know what we’re doing, Master Luke...”

 

Luke took a step closer to him, seeing that he was no longer agitated. “We’re looking for someone,” he said, careful to speak a bit slower than usual to give Threepio enough time to translate. “Do you know the clan-mother named Ugmush? We were told she is home for slushtime.”

 

The boar nodded and grunted a response.

 

“My, what a coincidence! Master Luke, Ugmush is his sister! His name is Guth.”

 

Luke let out a sigh of relief and smiled at him. “Guth, I am Luke Skywalker. Can you take us to Ugmush? Please, it’s very important...”

 

“He says to follow him, sir.”

 

Guth waved a massive arm in the direction of what looked like a medium sized cargo freighter docked not too far from the fields where they stood. “Over there,” he seemed to be saying. “Follow me over there.”

 

Luke nodded and turned to his droids. “Stick close to me,” he told them. “I want you two intact when we leave this place.”

 

Threepio stopped dead in his tracks and Luke swore that if the protocol droid only could, he would have gulped.

 

“I was only kidding.”

 

Luke threw in a wink to diffuse the mood, but it seemed to do very little in doing any of the sort.

 

“C’mon,” he said. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

 

“Sir, I’m afraid I wasn’t programmed with one.”

 

“Right. Well, I guess you’ll have to improvise, then.”

 

“Dear, oh dear...”

 

* * *

 

The airlock door opened with a hiss to reveal the surprisingly bright interior of the freighter. Luke wasn’t exactly sure what he had been expecting--something more spartan, more crude perhaps. He knew that Gamorreans were not particularly technology savvy, but from the looks of things, Ugmush and her companions had managed enough sophistication to maintain a fairly decent ship. 

 

A sullen, scar-faced man--Luke wondered if this was the human slave that Sebastin Onyx had seen with Callista--emerged from the upper deck to regard the visitors for a few seconds. With a half-sneer, he continued to make his way down the metal stairway and promptly disappeared into the cockpit without bothering to say a word to them.

 

Guth  unleashed a furious grunt at the human, but to no avail; despite Guth’s threats--Threepio whispered in Luke’s ear that the Gamorrean was promising to give the human a good beating later--he remained in the cockpit. The boar turned to Luke, Threepio, and Artoo, as if to apologize for his crewmate’s rudeness. Luke had to stifle a laugh at the irony: for a creature whose culture was mostly known for its lack of refinement, this boar was actually borderline polite.

 

He couldn’t help but wonder how much of that had been Callista’s influence.

 

“Sir,” Theepio said, “from what I remember, that was the ship’s engineer, Jos.”

 

“He didn’t seem very glad to see us, did he?” Luke muttered. “I sure wish he’d come out and talk to us--it would make this a whole lot easier if I didn’t need a translator.” Realizing how that must have sounded, he turned to Threepio and managed to recover quickly. “But since I need one, I’m glad I’ve got the best right here.”

 

The droid didn’t seem to be too concerned with Luke’s hasty statement, though. “If I may be completely honest, Master Luke,” he said, leaning in just a bit closer, “I must say... I have a bad feeling about this.”

 

Luke hid a grin. “Have a little faith, Threepio.”

 

“Who are you?”

 

Luke was startled to hear the flirty, sing-song voice of holovid star Amber Jevanche emanating from a large sow who stood tall on the upper deck. As he looked closer at her, he saw the transliterator hanging from her neck and realized that the voice he heard originated from it, and not the sow herself. “You,” she said again, waving an oversized paw at Luke and the droids. Luke suddenly realized she wouldn’t have recognized them--at least not Threepio, who had been disguised when he and Artoo last encountered her.

 

“Captain Ugmush!” Threepio exclaimed.

 

Guth stepped forward to grunt an explanation, but the captain wouldn’t hear of it. She ambled down the staircase and joined them on the metal deck a few seconds later.  Shoving Guth aside, she headed straight for Luke.

 

She was clearly upset. Luke sent a mild Force vibration her way to at least hold her back until he had a chance to explain himself. As if on cue, her shoulders dropped to release the tension and she stood before them. The sweet purr from Amber Jevanche sounded once again, “Help you?”

 

Relieved that she seemed more responsive now, Luke nodded. “Captain Ugmush?”

 

The sow nodded. “Ugmush,” she repeated. “Me, Ugmush.”

 

“I’m Luke Skywalker. Ugmush, I need your help-”

 

“Skywalker?”

 

“Yes,” he said. “I’m... a friend of Callista’s...” Somehow, he had a feeling she had already known without him having to tell her.

 

“Callista,” she said, nodding. She blinked a few times, as though considering this, then pointed at him again. “You, _growg_.”

 

“Growg?” Luke said back to her, bewildered. He turned to Threepio for help.

 

“Growg,” Ugmush said again. “Growg.” She laid a hand on her chest.

 

“Master Luke, I’m afraid I can not find a direct translation for this particular word, but I do believe she means... love...”

 

Luke watched her tap her breastplate. “Yes,” he said, smiling upon the comprehension, “I think I figured that out.”

_Growg_. His heart swelled within him, dizzying him for a few fevered moments. Callista had told Ugmush about him after all.

 

“Captain Ugmush... Callista needs help--I must find her. Do you know where she is?”

 

She shook her head almost immediately, then after a while said, “Don’t know.”

 

If she hadn’t hesitated for that extra second, Luke would never have doubted her answer. Worried that saying so would only make her defensive, he let her continue.

 

“She left few months ago,” she went on. “One day walk into my kitchen, tell me she leaving. Don’t know why.”

 

But Luke knew--felt it beyond a doubt--that she _did_ know why.

 

“What world were you docked on when she left?” he asked gently, hoping the non-threatening approach would make her feel more at ease with him. “Do you think she might have stayed there after you left?”

 

“No,” Ugmush answered firmly. “She told me she leaving. She not stay at planet where we were.”

 

Luke sighed, not quite sure anymore what more he could say to bring out the information he needed from her. After a few moments, he raised his head to meet her gaze once more. “Captain, please,” he said. “It’s urgent that I find her.”

 

The captain visibly tensed even more, and he heard her release a low, quiet grunt that seemed to be meant for her ears only. “Can’t help you,” she said. “Go. You must go now.”

 

“Captain-”

 

“No! Can’t help you!” She shook her head, then repeated, “Go now!” From her body language, she seemed not so much angry, but afraid--as if she wanted to help, but wasn’t sure if she should.

 

Maybe she questioned Luke’s motives.

 

“You can trust me.” Luke wasn’t sure if the words would make a difference, but he said them anyway, hoping she would change her mind.

 

“Guth!” She called her brother to her side and released a series of rapid grunts and squeals.

 

“Oh my, Master Luke, I do believe we should leave now. Captain Ugmush does not seem happy at all-”

 

Luke continued to hold firm. Not yet. Not when he had come this close.

 

For a moment, the temptation to use the Force--to reach into her mind and plant a suggestion--seemed so great that it overwhelmed him, but he stopped himself. He knew no matter how dire the circumstances, there would be no justifying such a questionable manipulation. Not even to find his beloved Callista.

She said he was growg... Somehow he had to convince her.

 

Guth made his way to them and as he had when they first encountered him in the fields earlier, let out a frightening sound of fury and pointed his blaster at them. “Leave!” he grunted.

 

Behind him, Luke heard the frantic taps of Threepio’s footsteps on the gangway, and he felt Artoo’s timid nudging at his hip. “Please,” he said once more, looking straight at Ugmush, but the sow appeared unmoved by his pleas. Finally he took a deep breath and said, “Captain, she’s in danger.”

 

A noticeable pause. She touched Guth’s arm to lower his weapon, then approached Luke again.

 

“Danger? What... What you mean?”

 

Luke took a tiny step forward--perhaps she would listen now. “If I don’t help her soon, Captain Ugmush...” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. The mere thought of the words sliced into his heart, making him wince inside.

No. He wouldn’t let it come to that.

 

As if she could read his thoughts, Ugmush grunted a low, mournful sound. “You help her?” she asked.

 

“Yes,” Luke nodded, hoping he had somehow broken through. “Yes, I only want to help her. Please, Captain. Help me help her...”

 

After a few moments, she sighed. “She contacted me few days ago.”

 

Luke felt his heart rise in his ribcage. It was all he could do to keep it from bursting through his bones.

 

“She sounded scared... So scared...”

Oh no… was he already too late?

 

“She wanted to know if I know traders nearby. She needed to leave planet she was on.”

 

“Leave?” Luke said. No, she couldn’t run away again. Not now. “Leave where? Where was she going?”

 

“Yavin, she said-”

_Yavin!_

 

Luke had to look back at her to make sure she had actually said it, and he fought hard to pay attention to her next words, though his mind had already raced to the giddy realization that Callista was on her way back--to him.

 

“She don’t say why. She only say she need go Yavin.”

 

“Did she find passage? She’s on her way there now?”

 

“Yes. I tell her I have friends near Chad. They go to Chad to take her.”

 

Chad...

 

Of course she would have returned to her home planet. Luke wasn’t really surprised--he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it sooner. He flinched, reminded for a moment of the raw pain in her she had always fought to hide from him, that he felt in her nonetheless. The pain of knowing that all she knew had gone on without her. That they, who remained her only link to her past--and the identity robbed from her when the Force abandoned her--had died while she was trapped helplessly on the _Eye_.

 

“Master Luke,” he heard Threepio say. “we haven’t much time... If Mistress Callista did indeed leave for Yavin a few days ago, she should there be arriving very soon.”

 

And he would be there to meet her...

 

Luke nodded absently, his heart swooning at thought of his long hoped for wish finally becoming reality. He turned to Ugmush. “Thank you,” he said softly. Somehow the words seemed hopelessly inadequate. She had given him back his hope--and for that, she deserved something so much more than a mere thank you. “I won’t let anything happen to her,” he said.

 

Ugmush smiled--Luke didn’t know that Gamorreans were capable of smiling--and nodded. “Take care of her,” she said. “You make good growg. She choose well.”

 

He gave her a small nod to acknowledge the words and felt his heart expand within him.


	6. Chapter 6

The humid breezes that greeted Callista the moment Captain Drago unlatched the airlock door on the YT-1300 freighter instantly sent a flood of bittersweet memories rushing back to her. She closed her eyes and breathed deep as the thick jungle perfume drifted towards her, as if  the evening air were welcoming her back at the end of a long journey.

 

Welcoming her back to the place she had once--for a few blessed months--called home.

 

“Is it anything like you remember?” Drago said just over her shoulder. She heard the muffled sound of  banging and clanking inside the ship--he must have been checking on the cargo as he threw the casual remark towards her.

 

She nodded without facing him. “It feels like nothing at all has changed,” she said softly, in a way, trying to convince herself.

 

But of course, everything had changed.

 

Though the sight of the lush green vegetation and the distant sounds of the jungle wildlife were familiar--even comforting--in her heart, she knew that life here had moved on without her in the time that she had been away.

 

She heard footsteps shuffle behind her, the sound of heavy-soled boots on metal, and when she turned, she saw Drago come up to the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the jamb. “It sure is gorgeous,” he commented with a small sigh, something Callista hadn’t quite expected from such a worldly--and undoubtedly jaded--trader. “A little too warm for my tastes,” he added, laughing as he shook his head, “but nice.”

 

She smiled at him, met by his tired, but kind eyes that showed a hint of concern, though they had only met a mere four days ago when Ugmush had given him her name and told him of her urgent need to leave Chad.

 

“I can see why you wanted to come back here.”

 

She hadn’t given him a reason for her wanting to return to Yavin, not that he had asked. As was customary among traders and, more often, smugglers, few questions--if any--were ever asked. As long as they got their fare, they were happy to remain blissfully ignorant of the true contents of their cargo or the intent of their passengers.

 

“I just wish I were here under better circumstances,” she finally said, not sure if he had heard her.

 

If he had, he let the comment go and didn’t ask her to explain.

 

For a long time she simply stood there, halfway on the plank of the _Alamont_, not quite able to bring herself to step off the ship. Half-afraid, half-excited, she could only look out in silence, her heart still startlingly fresh from the wounds that had never quite healed since she left this place. The many years away had not made the pain any easier to endure; they had only taught her how to live in spite of it.

 

Out in the distance, she saw the imposing vine-covered temples, bathed in the orange light of the setting sun, and at once she remembered the spark of wonder and promise in the eyes of the adepts, how they looked eagerly to her  to reveal the long-ago buried secrets of the Old Order.

 

She had failed them.

 

Luke tried to convince her that she hadn’t. “They have so much to learn from you, Callista,” he had told her. “With or without the Force, you can still teach them.” But in spite of all that, she knew. She had seen the disappointment on their faces, though they dared not say the words out loud.

 

And she had carried that with her ever since.

 

“We’re not due on Sullust for another ten days,” Drago said. Perhaps he sensed that she needed to hear someone’s voice at that moment to break the silence of her thoughts. “I don’t think the crew would mind waiting a few more hours before taking off, if... you need more time.”

 

Callista let out a deep breath and turned behind her. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” she said. “But I don’t want to keep you any longer. I’ve already delayed you long enough by making you take that detour to Chad.”

 

He gave her his pirate’s grin. “Always glad to help a friend of Ugmush’s,” he said. “For a nominal fee, of course.”

 

She laughed softly. “Of course.”

 

More shuffling of the feet, then he gestured towards the ship and said, “Last call... You sure you’ll be all right here?”

 

“Yes,” she nodded. “It’s time I got going. I’ve waited long enough.”

 

He said nothing and simply held up his hand to her in a gesture of farewell. “Good luck with everything,” he said at last. “I hope everything works out for you here.”

 

She watched him walk up the ramp and disappear into the freighter a few moments later. As the _Alamont_ rose into the  flame-colored sky, and she looked around herself again, still scarcely believing that she was truly here.

 

She never thought she would ever be able to bring herself to step foot on Yavin again. It was a place where she had known unspeakable despair, but it was also the place where she had experienced the greatest joys of her life. Her eyes drifted to the jungle hillsides in the distance, and, tired of resisting for so long, she finally let the memories of Luke flood her consciousness.

 

His strong arms around her waist as they lay under the crystalline stars... His head resting in the crook of her shoulder... They had spent countless nights there holding each other in the darkness, watching the nights slowly evolve into the early morning, sharing dreams and hopes and memories that neither had ever spoken to anyone else. Dreams they each thought they carried alone until discovering that the other had dreamed them too.

 

Stolen moments and giddy plans for the future. Children. Laughter. Love.

 

The sound of his boyish laughter, as vivid in her mind as the last time she heard it when she drifted off into sleep beside him, rang in her ears.

_I never knew love until I knew you_...

 

And yet even as they hoped for a life together, something in the hazy distance always awaited them. Perhaps both of them had known even then, though both had been too terrified to admit it--both wanting to hold on to the tenuous promise of tomorrow for as long as they could.

If she hadn’t lost the Force... If she hadn’t touched the dark side...

 

What then? She forced the thought from her head. It was useless to speculate, she knew that. What good would it do now to revisit the pain from which she had tried so hard to run away all these years? What good would it do to wonder what could have been?

_Luke..._

 

She wasn't even sure how he would react to seeing her after all these years. It had been so long--far too long. And she had hurt him so deeply, and... he would have moved on by now. It was what she hoped for him, even if the thought of it cut into her very core.

 

In the aftermath of the _Knight Hammer’s_ fiery blaze, when she had emerged from her escape pod, dazed and numb, she knew what her decision had to be. She would face the pain of having to leave her love--if it meant finding herself once again so she could one day return to him whole.

 

That possibility had seemed so tantalizingly close back then, just beyond her outstretched hand. For a while she had remained hopeful. Only a matter of time, she had told herself, before she would be back in his arms again. But the days turned into weeks. The weeks spilled into months. And when she finally found herself on Nam Chorios, alone and so desperately hungry for answers, she knew: this would not be the way back to Luke.

 

Every time she would brush against the cold, frightening, yet utterly enticing sensation of the dark side--every time she would hear it whisper in its deceiving voice, _You have the power within you, why do you deny yourself of it? The dark side can help you, the dark side can save you_, she knew she was drifting another step further from her beloved.

 

And now here she was, back in the very place to which she had vowed she would never return unless she had stepped free from the dark side’s shadows... She looked once again at the stone temples, standing majestically on sacred ground, and the students whom she saw emerging from their late afternoon meditations. She knew without a doubt that she had done the right thing by coming to warn him.

 

All of this, for which Luke had sacrificed, agonized, bled, and nearly died--indeed Luke himself--would be in great peril if the Rogue Sith were to awaken.

 

She had let him down once. But she would not let it happen again.

 

Then came the voice that she had already felt was coming, though her heart stood still nonetheless at the sound of it.

 

“Callista?”

 

Part of her had already sensed his presence behind her, even before she heard him speak. It had always been that way with them.

 

He looked different than she had seen him last. The boyishly handsome face, that she had kissed and caressed all those years ago, was the same; so was the winsome smile that had come to her every night in her dreams. But his eyes--the eyes she had never forgotten--carried a sadness that she didn’t recognize, a haunted stillness that made her ache.

 

She had done this to him, she thought, tasting the bitterness of regret. She was the one who had hurt him this way.

 

 

“Luke...”

 

She wondered if he had understood the many shades of meaning in the only word she could manage at the moment--if in the single utterance he had heard what she really meant to say.

 

_I’m sorry... I’ve missed you_...

_I never stopped loving you_...

 

She watched him look at her, his eyes cautiously tracing her form as if wanting to believe she was real--but afraid to trust what his eyes told him. Even in the silence of the Force, she felt his thoughts.

 

“Yes, it’s me,” she whispered. “I’m here... I’m really here...”__

 

Slowly, as in a dream where time was suspended, he came to her, each step a little surer than the last. He held one trembling hand to her cheek, not quite touching her--was he afraid she would vanish at any moment? She brought her hand to his, feeling his warmth radiate through her in pure rays of light.

 

For a long time they faced each other, each forgetting to breathe, each searching for the perfect words.

 

Each wishing that for once, time could stand still.

 

At last he said, “I knew you were coming.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t remember it being this cold at night,” she said, shivering slightly as she stood on the balcony of Luke’s suite.

 

Luke smiled as he watched her, fighting the temptation to come up to her and wrap his arms around her. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to do, though he knew he no longer had any right to be do so. Instead, he simply came up to the sliding door, stopping short of walking onto the balcony, and leaned against the frame, waiting for her to turn around to look at him.

 

She did moments later, her eyes lighting up when she spotted what was in his hand.

 

“Jeru tea?”

 

He nodded. “Thought you might want a cup. You’ve traveled far.”

 

“So have you.”

 

Their fingers touched when she took the cup from him. He wondered if it was his imagination that hers had lingered a moment longer than necessary.

 

“Callista…”

 

Suddenly the words he had so carefully rehearsed in his mind ran away from him. Now that he actually stood before her--remembering what it had felt to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her--the knowledge that she was in danger tore through her flesh, and he lowered her eyes to the ground, knowing he would be unable to bear the look in them when he told him what he had to say to her. 

 

She lifted her chin to meet his gaze again, her touch sending an electric current running through him. She must have felt it too, because she took her hand away in the next instant and reached up to brush a stray lock from her eyes.

 

“I came here to tell you something,” she said, catching him off-guard.

 

“What is it? You can tell me anything, you know that. If you’re in trouble, we can fix it-”

 

She shook her head. “No, that’s not… You don’t understand. I came here because… because you’re in danger…”

 

He took a step back and blinked back at her shock and disbelief. Slowly, gingerly, as though afraid he would recoil, she reached out with her hands and closed them over his.

 

“We don’t have much time…I came here as soon as I could-”

 

She stopped mid-sentence, eyeing him. She must have known there was something she wasn’t yet aware of. He slipped his hands out of hers and reached up to framed her face in a lover’s gesture. He saw her hold her breath in anticipation of what he was about to say.

 

“Callista, listen to me… you’re the one who’s in danger.”

 

“What?”

 

She pulled away from him.

 

“I thought… I mean, isn’t that why… you came?”

 

She shook her head. “I… I’m not sure I… understand...”

 

Luke was silent by her side, watching her look out the window. Her face was solemn in the light of the moons outside, and once again he wanted to slip his arms around her waist and draw her close to him.

 

But he knew the mere action couldn’t wipe away the threat of impending danger.

 

Somehow, he stopped himself from touching her. Not now, he thought, not yet... It had taken this--whatever this was that frightened her so--to bring her out of hiding and back into his life, and he was not going to risk pushing her away again.  He knew she had not come here to forget about the past and embrace a future with him. He knew that, though the knowledge was no easier to swallow.

 

“I saw it. Something’s about to happen, and… I don’t think we have much time…”

 

In her silence, he felt the weight of her thoughts, just as sure as if he had heard them through the stillness in the Force.

 

At last she turned beside her to face him. “I don’t understand what these premonitions could be, Luke. It’s the Jedi that are in danger--you, the students, Leia, and her children... That’s why I had to come here...”

 

“I know,” Luke said. The visions darted in his mind once again, taunting him as they had for the last few weeks. But though they remained as vague and elusive as the first time they had invaded his dreams, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt--even without the benefit of concrete details--that she would come to harm.

 

 

“I’m not sure I’ve figured out what this all means yet,” he went on, trying in vain to get the images out of his head. “But I just know that I feel better knowing you’re here and that... you’re safe.”

 

She smiled at him, a small smile that might have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t known her so well--known every detail of her face and the million different smiles she possessed.  “For now,” she said, in the way that only she could.

 

Even in the most desperate of times she could find a way to bring light.

 

Luke shook his head and laughed softly along with her. “How did I know you were going say that?” he said. He watched her laugh, and he saw the tension and the fear leave her, evaporating into the night air for a few precious seconds.

 

She looked beautiful. Force help him, she looked beautiful.

 

When her laughter faded at last, she took her eyes from him and folded her arms over her chest, letting out a sigh that seemed to expel all the anxiety with a single breath. Her voice was different when she spoke again--calm and unwavering, without a trace of fear or trepidation. Just as it had been in his dream when she was fading from his sight.

 

“Luke, we can’t afford to sit here and try to figure out how I’m in danger.” She looked at him again, her gray eyes hard with defiance and steel will. “We don’t have the luxury of time on our side.”

 

He had seen her once like this before. When they had finally admitted their love for each other on the _Eye_, and he told her of his plan to dismantle the dreadnaught without destroying it--without destroying her--her answer was firm and uncompromising. Nothing less than full destruction, she had insisted, even if it meant the end of her life for good. He remembered the conviction in her voice. He remembered the pain of  knowing that she was right, and how his heart tore inside at having to choose between her and the mission.

 

She had been ready to sacrifice herself without a second thought then, all for the promise of saved lives.

 

And she meant to sacrifice herself again now.

 

He couldn’t let her do it. His mind was unable to wrap itself around even the faint possibility of losing her again. He simply couldn’t let her do it.

 

“I know we don’t have all the answers right now, Callista. But I do know this: I am not going to let whatever this is get to you. Please--let me help you...”

 

“And let me help _you_, Luke,” she whispered. She stepped just a bit closer to him, the distance between them almost nonexistent now, and he felt her urgent breath on his face. “Because I don’t know how much longer we have.”

 

“Tell me what this is,” he said, suddenly aware that he had given in to instinct and, without realizing it, taken her hands in his. “What is it that’s brought you here? Why are the Jedi in danger?”

 

He saw her draw a shaky breath, as if she were willing herself to stay composed. Her hands turned cold under his touch, icy with the fear he knew she was fighting to keep at bay.

_Fear leads to the dark side, Callista_...

 

He started to send a gentle wave of the Force towards her to ease her fear, then remembered--it would do no good.

 

“Luke,” she began, “have you ever heard of the legend of the Rogue Sith?” 

 

The question took him by surprise.

 

“No, I haven’t.”

 

“Yoda never told you this story? Obi-Wan?”

 

He shook his head, almost out of shame. “I didn’t have much time with either of them--there wasn’t much of a chance to...” His voice trailed off in apology, though he knew Callista would be the first to tell him that there was nothing to be sorry for. “I really don’t know much about the Sith at all...” The truth was, there were still so many things he didn’t know; things he had hoped Callista would have shown and taught him--if she had only stayed.

 

As if feeling the weight of his stare, as if knowing the unspoken words behind the look, she lowered her eyes and pulled away from him.

 

“It was just another one of the legends that had been passed down by the masters…” She turned to face the balcony again. “To be honest, I never even gave it much thought at the time. I don’t think any of us ever really believed it could be true...”

 

She paused, as if trying to relive the long ago scene in her mind, as if coaxing the spirit of Djinn himself from the shadows on the walls.

 

Luke walked up to her and gently laid his hands on her shoulders.

 

When she turned, he saw a change come over her face--the fear that she had managed to keep under control earlier now slowly returning to her eyes.

 

“What is it? What do you remember about the story?”

 

She shook her head, perhaps not ready to trust the memory that seemed to consume her now, but he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze, urging her to continue.

 

“A thousand years ago, a young padawan named Ved Larkam ran away from his training at the Temple,” she said. “He thought the Jedi were weak because they used the Force only for knowledge and defense, and he vowed that he would be the one to take full advantage of the power that the Force had to offer.”

One of a great many to think so, Luke thought. He cringed inwardly, remembering the raw lust for power that had oozed out of Palpatine’s pores, the sheer arrogance that dripped like thick honey from his voice.

 

“He came across a Sith master who made him his apprentice, but it wasn’t long before he began to get restless again. He felt that his master was jealous of him, and it wouldn’t be long before he would try to kill him and replace him with someone weaker and less of a threat.”

 

“A little paranoid, it sounds like.”

 

“You could say that,” she said. “So he ran away again, thinking that he now knew the secrets of the dark side. And he went back to the Temple to lure other impressionable padawans into his brotherhood. Now he called himself Darth Rath, and he promised to teach them the true meaning of the Force.”

 

 

“Yes...”

 

Something in the way she said the word made him look at her again.

 

“Yes, just like what Vader promised you. And do you remember what he wanted you to do, Luke? Do you remember what needed to happen before you could rule the galaxy as father and son?”

 

“Palpatine had to be destroyed....” He felt his flesh start to tingle as the comprehension began to dawn on him. “Vader wanted me to fulfill my destiny and destroy the Emperor...”

 

“That’s right. Because the Sith have a rule. There can only be two of them at a time--a master, and an apprentice.”

 

His stomach twisted inside. So that’s why they had wanted him. Vader and Palpatine had vied for him because they each wanted him for their own use. And they would have succeeded--had he not managed to get through to his father.

 

As if she could feel the turmoil that stirred within him, she reached out a hand and placed it on his arm, her touch sending shockwaves through his body. He looked up at her and gave her a grateful smile, and he forcibly shoved the thoughts of the past out of his mind.

 

“But there were more than two of them,” he finally said. “They must have known that because of that, they were in danger of being pursued by not only the Jedi, but that Sith master as well.”

 

She nodded nodded. “And they vowed no one would get to them, Luke. So they separated and each ran away to various corners of the galaxy, and they promised to rise again someday when their time came.”

 

He furrowed his brow. “But they must all be dead by now-”

 

He stopped himself. As soon as the words left his mouth, every cell in his body screamed, _No!_ And for the first time, he understood why she had been so frightened--why she had come all this way, why she had risked everything--to warn him.

 

“Callista,” he murmured, somehow already knowing the answer within him before he even asked her, “what did you find on Chad?”

 

She didn’t answer right away. And when she did, her voice was barely louder than a whisper.

 

“Him, Luke,” she said. “I think... we found Darth Rath himself.”


	7. Chapter 7

Kyp Durron’s mouth twisted, his hands balling into fists. All who stood beside him in the tense silence could feel the red-hot anger that stirred within him, could almost see could almost see it rise from him like steam, puncturing the musty air of the Academy library. But just as suddenly as the flash of rage appeared, it thinned and dissipated, seeming to cool into mere frustration.

 

As if regretting the momentary lapse of composure, he sighed and unclenched his hands, looking to Luke in apology. “I’m... sorry, Master,” he said, bending his head down to avoid Luke’s eyes. “I know I shouldn’t have let it get to me like that...”

 

But there was no judgment on Luke’s face, nor rebuke--only the understanding of one who had known the feeling of helplessness all too well. He came to the young man’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right, Kyp,” he said softly. “I don’t think there’s anyone in this room who isn’t as upset as you are over this.”

 

Kyp shook his head without bringing his eyes from the ground. “Master, he brought so many young souls to ruin,” he said. His voice was raw with the pain of knowing, of having walked down the same path years ago. “The thought of that maniac on the loose, getting ready to awaken this army of his and destroy all we have here...”

 

“He won’t succeed,” Callista said. She came over to him and laid a hand on his arm, but the tension in his muscles told her the gesture was unwelcome. With a sigh of acknowledgement, she took her hand away, then added softly, “I came here to make sure he wouldn’t.”

 

He was still for what seemed like an eternity, and for a moment, she feared she had offended him by speaking. Then at last he exhaled and nodded--though never once did he look in her direction. If she ever had any doubt that his reaction to seeing her again was chilly at best, his refusal to look in her eyes just now only confirmed it for her. He made little attempt to disguise his contempt for her; his face couldn’t hide it.

 

Nor could it hide the remnants of distrust.

 

She felt it from all of them in the room--Luke’s former students, now full-fledged Jedi in their own right, gathered in the archives that morning at his request. Here in the small confines of the library, in the presence of the close-knit group whose bond was so evident, there was no escaping the fact that she didn’t belong. That _they_ felt she didn’t belong. Their eyes bore down on her with the weight of unanswered questions, unspoken accusations that had only grown over the years. And though the words never once fell from their mouths, they sliced into her all the same.

 

Six years ago, she had been little more than a painful reminder of the friend they had lost to a cruel fate. The woman who had taken the place of their comrade and had the same hair, the same face, the same body, but wasn’t--couldn’t be--_her._ She remembered the way they avoided her eyes, the stolen glances that they thought she hadn’t noticed, the awkward silence that always followed her whenever she was alone in a room with them. The effort it took for them to see her for who she was.

 

Had she had the Force, she might have been able to make them forget. But without it, she couldn’t even command their respect.

 

She stood before them now--no longer the mirror image of the one who had given her a second chance at life--but as her own woman. Time had replaced Cray’s fine, cornsilk locks with her own malt-brown curls, and changed the delicate, porcelain features to her own face. But still in spite of all that, she felt their reluctance to accept her.

 

As painful as it was to admit to herself, she knew: even after all this time, they still resented her. They resented her not only for the disappointment of the past, but for the one crime that they could not seem to forgive--leaving Luke.

And in truth, she couldn’t really blame them. They all loved him--as a father, as a teacher. They loved him as much as she did. And she had hurt him. Intentionally or not, she had hurt him.

 

She felt Luke’s eyes on her. She looked up at him and caught his smile, and she could almost hear him whisper_, Give them time. They just need time_...

 

But there _was_ no time to dwell on the sting of their rejection--the matter at hand was far too important for that. There was only one thing she could do, given the gravity of the situation, and that was to push aside their contempt for her and speak to them about what had brought them together under the most tenuous of alliances. In the end, she thought, they would have to see past their history and focus on what needed to be done.

 

They had little choice but to do so.

 

“I think everyone knows why we’re here today,” she said. “We’ve got to act quickly before Rath strikes-”

 

“If he hasn’t already awakened one of his ‘friends’,” Kyp said grimly.

 

Tionne tilted her head at him, an almost motherly gesture that caused shards of light to reflect in her silvery hair. “We don’t even know if _he_ knows where they are,” she said. “The details of the legend are sketchy--that’s why we’re here today, remember? What if he doesn’t know?”

 

“She’s right,” Luke said. “We don’t know how much he knows, and if there’s even the smallest chance that he has no more information than we do, then we’ve got one thing to our advantage: there’s only one of him, but there’s far more of us. He can’t be in more than one place at a time, and if we strike fast enough, we can get to them before he does.”

 

“That’s why we’ve got to comb as much of the records as we can,” Callista said. “There’s got to be some nugget of information to be found here or on Coruscant. Whatever you may have been able to salvage from the purge...” Her throat closed in on her unexpectedly as she said the words, but she forced herself to continue. “There’s got to be something. I... can feel it.”

 

From the corner of her eye, she saw Tionne nod. “We’ll find it,” she said softly, reminding Callista for a moment of the young woman who had once made the rare attempt to connect with her--even help her. “If there’s anything at all, we’ll find it.”

 

Callista gave her a grateful smile, then watched her and the other students begin to disperse.

 

“Thank you,” she called out to them, not knowing what else to say to them, hoping they would know she meant it. They turned to look at her as they exited the room, and Callista could almost swear she had seen at least part of their iciness melt away. It was a start, she told herself. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

 

After a while, she felt Luke’s hand on her shoulder, and she turned beside her to face him.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t think that they... I’m sorry...”

 

“Luke, it’s not your fault,” she said softly. “And it’s not theirs either. It’s just... the way things are. I can’t change the past. None of us can.”

 

He said nothing for a few moments, though she knew he would have, if he had just known the right words. To spare him the effort, she smiled and said, “Come on, let’s go have a look at Djinn’s old things...”

 

“You got it,” he said, returning her smile.

 

He led her down the corridor, past the rooms where the students had gone, and they turned the corner to come to a small out-of-the way room, almost hidden away from all the others.

 

Time turned back forty years when she entered it.

 

It smelled of old books and scrolls and  treasures long since forgotten, nearly lost in the purge that had all but extinguished the light of the Jedi. It smelled of memories--her memories. Of Djinn and the _Chu’unthor_, her fellow students, and the pure joy of discovering the Force for the first time, and knowing that despite the agony of leaving home, she had made the right choice to follow her calling.

 

“This should all be familiar to you,” Luke said from where he stood behind her. “It’s all the things we managed to salvage from the _Chu’unthor._” She heard him laugh, the somewhat-flustered laugh of his when he was embarrassed. “It’s not exactly organized, I know, but... I’ve never really had much of a chance over the years to go through all of these things myself and put them in their proper places.”

 

She smiled at him in an effort to erase his guilt, then in a silent reverence, looked around her. She touched nothing at first, half-afraid that the ancient artifacts would dissolve under her fingertips from age, or else all turn out to be nothing but breathtaking facsimiles of the things she had forgotten until now. Her eyes took in everything that crammed the crowded tables, the bins stuffed to the brim, the overflowing shelves that crawled along the walls. She made out the items that before now she had only remembered in pieced-together memories: a broken-off piece from the steel platform on Bespin; trusty old remotes, cracked and yellowed over time; the tools they had used to fashion their lightsabers; torn fragments of the brown rough-woven cloth of their Jedi robes; Djinn’s countless manuals and books and papers.

 

She reached for a loose sheet of parchment paper tucked between two fat books on one of the shelves. It felt fragile in her hands, dried and old, and the writing had almost completely faded. As she examined it, she couldn’t help but smile, remembering the quirky, wise old man who had been her master--remembering the almost child-like excitement in his eyes when he told them the old legends; his stern, uncompromising voice that drove them to their limits; his quick smile when they most needed encouragement.

 

She turned around to show the paper to Luke. “This was from his notes,” she said. “The others used to tease him all the time about insisting on handwriting everything when he could have easily kept his records on datapads and computers. But he always said that Jedi lived simple lives, and that as revolutionary as technology was, we should always try to remember the simple way of doing things.”

 

“He sounds like quite the rebel.”

 

“That he was. And he was quite the Jedi Master. Very wise.”

 

He took the page from her and turned it over in his hands, and he fell silent for a time. Handing it back to Callista, he said softly, “Sometimes... Sometimes I wonder when I’ll ever get to that stage.”

 

She placed the sheet back on the shelf and smiled at him. “You’re already further along than you think, Luke,” she said. “Look at what you’ve been able to accomplish on your own-”

 

“Not without mistakes,” he said, eyes not meeting hers.

 

She touched his hand. “Not without triumphs either. And the triumphs have outnumbered the defeats. I’ve never met anyone with as much courage and heart. You’ll get there, I promise. I have all the faith in the universe that you’ll get there.”

_I just wish I could have helped you get there_…

 

She felt tears begin to burn her eyes, and she turned away, not wanting him to see her like this.

 

But he must have seen anyway.

 

“Callista, I’m... sorry if being here is difficult for you...”

 

She brushed aside the loose curls from her eyes and looked at him. “It’s all right,” she said after a while. “I guess I’m just feeling a little sentimental going through Djinn’s things.”

 

“No,” he said, “I meant... being _here_. On Yavin. Being here with me.”

 

She blinked at back at him, surprised at his words, not quite knowing what to say in response.

 

“I know this can’t be very easy for you after the way things... after everything that happened with us. We’ve both moved on with our lives, and... I’m sorry you had to revisit this....”

_We’ve both moved on with our lives_...

 

The words stung her unexpectedly. She was happy he had moved on--she had wanted nothing more than for him to find peace after she had said good-bye. It was the reason she left in the first place. And yet hearing him say it felt like a crushing blow.

The problem was, she had never moved on. She had never gotten over him.

 

“I couldn’t _not_ come, Luke,” she said, finally finding her voice after the surprise of his statement. “When I found out... I couldn’t...”

 

“I’m glad you did...”

 

“Luke...”

 

Slowly, she saw him move closer, so slowly that part of her wondered if she was only imagining that the gap between them was shrinking. She felt his breath on her face, and as her words trailed off, she found herself moving towards him, pulled by a force that was stronger than either one of them. She closed her eyes, and felt the faintest brush of his lips on hers--halfway between touching and not touching...

 

“Master Luke?”

 

Threepio’s pristine voice jolted them both back into reality, like an unexpected blast of cold Hoth air in the desert heat of Tatooine. Callista could still hear Luke’s heart pounding in her ears--or perhaps it was the sound of her own blood throbbing in her veins--and she gave him a slightly embarrassed grin as she pulled away.

 

All at once, it had felt like a lifeline had just been severed.

 

As if realizing he had interrupted, the droid paused in the doorway and started to back away. “Oh I beg your pardon, I didn’t mean to intrude... I seem to always have the worst timing for this-”

 

“It’s all right, Threepio,” Luke said. Slowly--as if it were the last thing in the universe that he wanted to do--he released his hold on Callista “What is it?”

 

“It’s Mistress Leia, sir,” Threepio said. “She’s sent an urgent message for the both of you.”

 

Callista’s eyes flew back to Luke’s and she straightened immediately. “She found something?”

 

“Yes, it appears so, madam. She believes... that she may have found a rather important clue.”

 

* * *

 

“I almost didn’t see them.”

 

Leia stood before a faintly humming comm terminal, somewhere deep inside one of the dull, gray crypts where for his generation-long rule--and even years after that, until the labyrinthine vaults were discovered--Palpatine had amassed decades worth of secret files. “With all the data that’s in here,” she said, slightly flushed and breathless, “I’m lucky it only took me hours to come across this, rather than weeks.” The words came swiftly out of her mouth, as if she were already two, or three, or even ten steps ahead in her own mind.

 

Luke smiled at her, and with a sideways glance at Callista, said matter-of-factly, “We could use some _good_ luck for a change.”

 

Callista watched his eyes crinkle in amusement, feeling a smile of her own form on her lips. “Now you’re starting to sound like me,” she said. “What was it again that you said Obi-Wan told you? There’s no such thing as luck?”

 

“Ben would have changed his mind, if he had seen half the things we’ve been through in our lifetime.”

 

She laughed. “I suppose you’re right.” 

 

The terminal whistled behind Leia and she turned to glance at the monitor, whose pattern of amber lights and shapes captured the attention of Callista’s tired eyes. “Are these... Jedi records, Leia?” she said. “I’ve always wondered if... Palpatine had saved some of the things from the Purge... Somehow I can’t imagine that he’d destroy all traces of it--he must have kept some items, if for no other reason than to stash them away in these secret vaults of his.”

 

“No, I’m afraid not,” Leia said, shaking her head. “There isn’t much left, and what little we did find here when we took over Imperial City years ago Luke kept and took with him to the Academy. All we’ve got here now are a few random files that unfortunately, won’t be of much help to us with this. But...” She turned back to face them and straightened, the braided loops of her hair swaying lightly as she stood, and Callista could have sworn she saw a hint of a cautious smile on Leia’s face--one that raised goosebumps on her skin. “I found something that I think is quite interesting.”

 

Luke shifted in his stance and stepped closer to her holo. “What is it?”

 

“The Emperor took no chances when it came to what his subjects could and could not know.” Her voice, Callista noticed, had taken on the hardened quality of one who had fought bitterly against injustices for years, the same steely tone Callista heard in her own voice at times, when she spoke of the horrors she herself had witnessed. “We all knew for years that he had suppressed news information during his reign,” she said, her knuckles white as she gripped the edges of the comm terminal. “But what we didn’t know until just now, is that he had gone much further than that. He had sealed off older news records as well--those that were from before he came into power in the Senate.”

 

Callista’s eyes locked with Luke’s, and for an electric second, the air ceased to exist in her lungs. “How old, Leia? How far do these news records go back?”

 

“Far enough,” Leia said, her dark eyes alive and vibrant, “for me to have found a mention of a padawan named Ved Larkam. And far enough for me to have found some information about his companions as well.”

 

Callista straightened immediately. “You know who they are? No one’s... The legends never mentioned any specific names other than Larkam’s...”

 

“Well, there’s nothing in these news records that connects him directly with the others,” Leia said. “But knowing what we know... I think we can start to put some of the pieces of the puzzle together here.”

 

“What do they say?” Luke said.

 

Leia punched at the keyboard, causing the monitor to spew forth a multitude of bright letters in rapid succession. “Callista said Larkam ran away from the Temple when he was about eighteen... Sure enough, right around that time, reports surfaced about a Jedi padawan who turned up missing.”

 

“The news bureaus would have had a field day with that,” Luke commented. “A missing padawan would have gotten everyone’s attention, I might imagine.”

 

“Of course. They followed the stories for months... Two years later when he still hadn’t been found, they reported that he had been presumed dead, though the Jedi never officially stopped searching for him.”

 

“No,” said Callista softly, “they would never have given up looking for one of their own.”

 

“It wasn’t long after he was presumed dead that it happened again. Nine padawans disappeared this time, just as mysteriously as Larkam did, and when they weren’t found after several months, they too were presumed dead.”

 

Behind her, Callista could hear the change in Luke’s breath.

 

“So they never knew what happened to them,” he murmured. “Was there any other mention of them after that?”

 

Leia nodded. “Just once more,” she said. “Decades later, an old man surfaced, claiming to have been one of the nine who had been missing. The news bureaus all humored him--by then the story of the missing padawans had become one of the oldest unsolved mysteries--and he told them things that eventually got passed down in the legend. Unfortunately, most of those who covered the story didn’t take him very seriously. To them, he was just an old man with a tall tale that would amuse some folks around the galaxy who wouldn’t know any better than to believe him.”

 

“Until now,” Callista said, “I can’t say I really believed the stories much either.”

 

After some time, Leia said, “I’m sorry... I wish there had been more information for me to give you...” She turned again to punch a key on the terminal, and the lights on the monitor screen went dead.

 

“You’ve given us so much already, Leia,” Callista said. “We know far more now than we did this morning, and that’s something. It’s not everything yet--but it is something.”

 

“I just hope we find something else soon.”  She smiled through the holo and opened her mouth to say something, then closed it back again a few seconds later as if unsure of her next words. At last she said, “I’m glad I could help, even a little. And... I’m glad...”

 

Callista returned her smile before Leia could even finish the sentence. Though the words hadn’t been spoken, Callista understood nonetheless what they were. “We’ll find them, Leia,” she said, and she suddenly remembered something Djinn had told her. “The light will always triumph over the dark.”

 

She knew it. Felt it.

 

Beside her, she felt Luke’s smile.

 

* * *

Luke was still sleeping when Callista had finally given in to her restlessness and rose in the early morning darkness. She had been careful to make as little noise as possible when she tiptoed past his room, weaving her way through the shadows and the obstacle course of furniture in the living room--hoping all the while that she had remembered enough of where everything was six years ago so she wouldn’t bump into anything and wake Luke or the droids.

 

She didn’t want him to know that she had woken. She didn’t want him to know that all through the night, nameless, faceless images had plagued her surface dreams and kept her from surrendering completely to deep sleep. Thoughts had swirled randomly in her head in her semi-lucid state: half-answered questions and still more questions that arose from those, Leia’s discovery, and their failure to find just one more clue after it. The missing link still eluded them, and Callista knew with everything in her that time was running out with each failed attempt to find it.

 

She entered the archives in utter darkness. Blackness blanketed the walls of the narrow corridors that led to the main hall and branched off to the dozens of other smaller areas. Running her hand along the walls as she walked, Callista finally found the light switch, and the tracklights below and above her suddenly hummed to life.

 

Her footsteps echoed on the cold floor when she came into the main hall--a sound all too familiar to her. And at once, she remembered.

 

There were many nights like this one years ago, lonely nights among the books when she would stay into the early dawn pouring over old records in her desperate search for the answers to her missing powers. Luke would long be asleep in their bed by then, never knowing when the morning came that she had left his side while he slept and stolen away to the archives. Every morning she promised herself that she would stay in his arms that night--that she would forsake the ever-fruitless search that called her name like a siren beckoning her. But each night she was unable to resist the call.

 

Now it was this new search that called her name, calling her forth from sleeplessness to the familiar halls of the library in search of that one more clue or secret--the last piece of the puzzle that would make all of this make sense.

 

Or at least she hoped.

 

She knew every centimeter of this place. Even if she hadn’t had the tracklights to guide her, she would have known exactly how to navigate the halls that snaked around the various rooms, known exactly what books and equipment each room contained. And she knew, when she walked back in to the tiny, cramped room where she had spent too many nights years ago shedding tears of loneliness and frustration, that whatever they needed to find would be in here.

 

This room may have failed her once before, but something told her would not fail her now. It couldn’t.

 

Her eyes went to the shelves instinctively. As in the other rooms, they were crammed full, bent from the weight of the worn books that filled each centimeter along the walls. As if it would ensure that she wouldn’t overlook something, she ran her hand across the old bindings, reading the labels on each book as she went along. Old training manuals, instructional references, record books...

 

Record books.

 

Of course.

 

The weight of her indrawn breath pressed against her ribs. Her hand shook as she reached for one, part of her almost wondering if it would disappear once she touched it, like a mirage her exhausted and increasingly desperate mind had conjured up. She pulled it from the shelf and gingerly set it down on the table, going through each yellowed page with the eyes of a child in wonder.

Something had to be in here.

 

She stood once more, scanning the entire row filled with the others--older ones, each one more worn and fragile than the last. Then her eyes stopped at one. Trembling all over, she reached for it and for a long time, she merely stood, cradling it in her arms like the long-lost treasure that it was.

 

“Callista?”

 

She gasped sharply in the broken silence, and saw Luke standing in the doorway.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take you by surprise, I just...” Slowly, he walked in and came to her side. “I was worried. I didn’t know where you were, and...”

 

“How--how did you know I had left?”

 

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m just... I’m glad you’re all right.”

 

She noticed that he avoided her eyes. At length she said, “You had another dream about me... Didn’t you?”

 

He didn’t answer her at first, as if he didn’t want to admit it to himself, much less to her. Then at last he nodded and sighed. “It wasn’t any clearer than the other ones, though,” he said, almost in the tone of apology. “I still can’t tell you what it is, Callista, but...”

 

His hand reached for her cheek and brushed aside a lock of hair. She didn’t resist his touch.

 

“I know you don’t need me to protect you. And the last thing I want to do is make you feel helpless, because I know you’re not, but...”

 

She smiled and squeezed his hand, assuring him that though he struggled with the words, she knew what he meant--and was touched by it. “Luke, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, I promise--I just didn’t want to wake you...” She sighed and sat down at the table, gently pulling him down with her. “I couldn’t sleep. Every time I tried, I would just wake up again a few minutes later... I kept thinking about how much time we’re losing by not knowing where to find Rath, and-”

 

“And how much time he’s gaining while we continue to search here...”

 

She nodded.

 

“You know,” he said, smiling, “you could have woken me up. I would have gladly gotten up to help you here.”

 

“As I recall, it was always quite a feat to wake you up.”

 

“That’s because I was usually dreaming of you and I didn’t want the dream to end.”

 

Callista felt her cheeks grow hot and she smiled shyly before taking her eyes away from him, reaching for the book to slide it towards him. “I found this just now.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“It’s a Jedi record book, Luke. Every year when they would bring in babies into the Temple as padawans, they would begin to record everything about them in here--birthdays, birth names, family history, medical history... They kept as much information as they could about each child.”

 

Luke looked up at her. “Quite different than what we’re used to here.”

 

“A little, yeah. “

 

She touched the book again, caressing it as she would caress a child. “I wish... you could have known what it was like, Luke... We were strong once, great and thriving, until...”

 

His hand closed over hers, warm and comforting--knowing her thoughts though she could not find the words to express them.

 

“This was from around the time that Larkam and the others were in the Temple,” she said at last. “I was hoping I’d find something in here--though at this point I’m not even sure what we should be looking for.”

 

He took the book from her and opened it, the yellowed pages crackling as he turned them. “Larkam, Ved... There he is, I found him-” His eyes widened and met hers.

 

“Luke, what is it?” She leaned in close to him to look at the page. “What did... No… it can’t be…”

 

Larkam, Ved

Midichlorian count: 3000 (high range)

Tested at the age of 2 years (note: older than most padawans, but still under maximum age)

Entered as padawan standard date 12841138-5422

Family name: Larkam

Location of discovery and testing: Corellia

Birthplace: Chad III

 

Callista blinked a few times, part of her wondering if the words would change once she opened her eyes again “Chad,” she whispered, then looked to Luke once again. “He was born on Chad...”

 

“Callista, I think... I think I know where the others may be...”

 

She swallowed hard, knowing before he even said the words what it was he was thinking--because the very same thoughts ran through her head at that moment.

 

“They went to their birth planets to hide... That’s it, isn’t it?”

 

He wasn’t looking at her, but rather on the page, as if expecting it to confirm his suspicions somehow. “They’re there,” he said, finally raising his head to look at her. The determination in his eyes made her believe as well. “I know it with everything in me, Callista. That’s where we’ll find them.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

“Of course, I’m worried, Artoo.”

 

Threepio was clearly agitated, even for Threepio. Of course, the protocol droid was already high-strung to begin with, but Luke had known him long enough now to know when his fretting exceeded its usual amount, which--from what Luke saw from the corner of his eye when he walked past the two droids to load the gear into the ship--it did at that moment.

 

“And why, may I ask, are you not?” Threepio continued to fuss to his squat counterpart. Beads of early morning sun skipped across the length of his golden armor as he waved his arms around for emphasis, though Artoo seemed thoroughly unfazed by Threepio’s animated state.

 

The astromech whistled a reply, a nonchalant chirp that was probably meant to pacify his fellow droid but did not seem to have the intended effect.

 

Without missing a beat, Threepio continued on in the same flustered manner. “I just don’t understand how you can be so cavalier about this whole thing,” he said, the nervousness in his pristine voice now giving way to plain old irritation for his counterpart. “Why, after all we’ve been through, Artoo-Detoo, you should know better than to not take this sort of thing seriously! Don’t you ever wonder sometimes how we ever get ourselves into situations like these? How we ever get out of them is a mystery to me...”

 

Luke, for his part, was only half-listening to the droids’ banter, picking up enough of their conversation now and then to make him smile in amusement as he walked back and forth past them on the gangway. In truth, his mind had already been light-years away--long before he had met the droids at the landing platform at dawn, long before he and Callista had summoned the Jedi to the darkness of the archives to tell them of their discovery. Something had gnawed at him relentlessly even hours before then, something he couldn’t even allow himself to bring to the surface.

 

He refused to form the thought in his mind, because somewhere inside him he knew--it was about Callista.

 

Though the mission at hand concerned him too--even he had to admit it was a risky gamble--his thoughts on their upcoming journey and the grim task ahead of them were fractured at best, competing with the other thoughts that were demanding his attention. Once again, the visions of her were far too insistent to ignore.

 

And far too many.

 

He’d managed to shake himself into consciousness last night before the nightmare ended, his heart smashing wildly against the bones in his chest when he came to in the darkness. He remembered waking to dread--to absolute certainty--that Callista was no longer there, and the onslaught of panic nearly overtook him when he saw the empty guestroom. He’d been crazed with worry when he rushed out to the archives last night. The fast-fading images blurred together indistinguishably in his head, filling him with guilt at having turned his back for even one second-- letting his guard down when he had vowed never to let her out of his sight.

 

But she was safe. He had to remind himself of that this morning, though his hands trembled at the mere thought of what might have been if she hadn’t.

 

When he drew breath, he felt a hand on his arm, like a life force surging through him, and he knew it was Callista before he even turned around. Consciously clearing his mind of the random images before he faced her, he forced a weak smile as he turned, though he knew she would know all too well he was pretending.

 

“You all right?”

 

The warmth of her hand reached his flesh even through the sleeve of his flight suit, shocking him and comforting him all at once, and--as he knew it would--the heaviness of his heart began to lift.

 

“I could lie and say yes, but you’d see right through me anyway, wouldn’t you?”

 

The rosebud lips curved into a knowing smile, and he could have sworn he felt a tiny squeeze from her hand before she took it away a second later, as if fearing his reaction to her touch. In a gesture of nervousness, she smoothed the loose curls from her braid, tucking them behind her ear, and without looking him in the eye, she said quietly, “You don’t have to be afraid of me vanishing when you’re not looking, Luke.”

 

He should have known that she’d know what he was thinking.

 

“Of course, I know I could never keep you from worrying about me any more than you could keep me from worrying about you.”

 

Luke laughed, aware for the first time of just how much pent-up tension he had been carrying until that moment, and he let it evaporate into the air like mist. “Old habits are hard to break, aren’t they?”

 

She smiled. He caught the tell-tale spark in her eyes before she broke the gaze, as she had earlier.

 

Why was it so hard for her to look in his eyes?

 

He watched her look away and fold her arms over her chest, her shoulders lifting slightly when she inhaled, then dropping once again when she soundlessly released her breath. At length she said, “I can take care of myself, Luke. I always have and... I always will. With or without the Force, I always find a way to take care of myself.”

 

For a moment the image of the determined, steel-willed young woman in the gun room of the _Eye_ came to him: the soot and grime on her face; the bruises and scrapes, and the finger-long gash on her forehead that threatened to leave a permanent, nasty scar; the grief and worry and pure exhaustion in her tear-rimmed eyes.

 

And he remembered thinking that he had never laid eyes on a woman so beautiful. It was, he realized, her strength that had drawn him to her back then. It continued to astound him even now.

 

She was right, there was no denying it. He had seen for himself what a survivor she was; it was the very reason he had fallen in love with her in the first place.

 

“I know,” he said. “You are one of the strongest women I have ever known. And I know you’ve lived through more things than any one person should ever have to endure in a thousand lifetimes... But when you-” He stopped, not really sure how the words would sound if he said them out loud, afraid she would turn away again if he did.

 

But she had looked up at him again. Her eyes locked with his, the air between them suddenly turning electric, and he heard--felt--the change in her breath.

 

“When you care about someone,” she whispered, completing his thought without ever letting her eyes leave his, “you want to do everything in your power to protect them.”

 

He nodded. “Sometimes... It’s easy to forget that we can’t control everything. Even if we are Jedi.”

 

She returned his smile. “Spoken like a true Jedi master.”

 

Blinking by the door caught his eye, gold and white and blue light--Threepio and Artoo walking up the plank side by side, and the protocol droid still in the midst of his anxious discourse. Luke hid a smile and looked at Callista. “I guess you could say this is a tradition,” he muttered, careful to keep his voice from reaching the droid’s extra-sensitive hearing--though he knew Threepio wouldn’t have heard him anyway, since he was always oblivious to everything when he was like this. “Threepio tends to get a little out of sorts before anything that looks even the least bit dangerous, and Artoo, in turn, tries his best to put his mind at ease. As he’s doing right now.”

 

“And succeeding as usual, I see,” Callista said with a wink. “Well, maybe we should just let him get this out of his system then...”

 

“... This Darth Rath person sounds positively frightful, Artoo. There’s no telling what he’ll do next, and--oh my, what do you think he’d do to us if we encountered him? Do you think he’d-”

 

“He’d tear you apart, limb to limb, just like a Wookiee would.”

 

Shock forced Threepio into abrupt silence.

 

“Kyp...”

 

Kyp cleared his throat--no doubt to keep the laughter from completely overtaking him--and he rolled his eyes as he came up to distressed droid, playfully tapping on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Master Luke, but I just couldn’t resist.”

 

“M-master Luke, it’s not true, is it sir? I knew this mission was supposed to be dangerous, but I never expected-”

 

“Don’t worry, Threepio.” Luke made sure to avoid looking at Kyp or Callista as he spoke; he could almost see them struggling to hold their laughter in, just as he was. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you and Artoo. And neither would Callista.”

 

“You’re right, Master Luke, what could I have been thinking? Of course you and Mistress Callista will take care of us. I don’t know what I was ever concerned about...” He turned beside him to Artoo, motioning him inside the ship. “See there? I told you there was nothing to worry about... Come along, we’d best get settled in before take-off...”

 

Luke heard Kyp’s snicker just as the two droids disappeared into the cockpit. He turned his head to look back at his former student. The young man had not moved an inch from where he stood at the doorway, his hands tucked under his arms as he poked his head inside to look at Luke and Callista. Luke smiled and motioned him in, though Kyp hesitated.

 

“You wanted to talk to us about something?”

 

Kyp opened his mouth to speak, then closed it back up almost immediately and cleared his throat. Luke could feel him trying to overcome the awkwardness of the moment, but said nothing for fear of making Kyp all the more uncomfortable.

 

“I, uh... I really should get going, Master,” he stammered as he began to back up. “Talia and Tionne are waiting for me, and we probably shouldn’t waste any more time-”

 

“Kyp, wait...”

 

Luke walked up to the doorway and saw Kyp turn halfway on the plank to look back at him and Callista.

 

“I don’t want to keep you any longer...”

 

“You’re not,” Callista said. She came to Luke’s side. “If there’s something urgent--we can wait a few minutes...”

 

Kyp shook his head. “No, it’s not urgent--it’s nothing like that. I just...” He smiled--it was the first time Luke had seen him smile at Callista since she had arrived on Yavin--and said softly, “I wanted to say to you both... May the Force be with you.”

 

Surprise fell over Callista’s face, a tentative smile forming slowly but surely. “May the Force be with you, Kyp,” she said.  “With all of us.”

 

He nodded back at her, for a moment, looking as if he didn’t know what to say, though Luke knew he had said all he had come there to say.

 

“The others have already left, sir. We’ll all contact you as soon as each of the groups comes out of hyperspace. After that, it should take a couple of days before any of us can track down the exact locations of the hiding places. You’ll hear from us as soon as we do.”

 

Luke nodded. “Good. With any luck, this should all be over soon enough.”

 

“Whoever said a Jedi’s life is boring sure didn’t know what he was talking about,” Kyp said. “It’s more like, non-stop danger if you ask me.” 

 

Luke turned beside him to Callista, and gave her a small grin in the secret language that only they would have understood. “Well, someone wise once told me... What’s living-”

 

“-if you’re not living dangerously...”

 

This time she didn’t turn away when she smiled.

 

* * *

 

Against the deep black of space, Gerridion stood out, a sand-colored jewel gleaming in the velvet darkness, brighter than the diamond stars that studded the sky around it. From this distance it looked absolutely breathtaking, reminding Luke of the countless foreign, exotic worlds he had imagined whenever he stared into the Tatooine sunsets as a young boy; when he was lost in an orphan’s daydream of starships and spaceports and creatures that until then, he had seen only in hard-to-come-by books and holos. He had promised himself then that he would see all those things first-hand one day--whenever the day finally came that he would escape Tatooine and get as far away from the Outer Rims as he could.

 

He’d once half-jokingly asked Threepio to teleport him off that desolate rock, the only home he had ever known until the age of twenty. Now the memory of those words--spoken out of the boldness and rashness of youth--only made him smile. Yoda had chided him for always looking to the horizon, as did Uncle Owen who never could comprehend why his young ward would fail time and time again to keep his focus on the here and now, why Luke would waste so much time and energy dreaming of adventure that would likely never come, rather than concentrating on everyday matters like the harvest and their homestead, and how they were going to get by until the next season on the little money they had.

 

Only later in adulthood did Luke come to realize just how isolated he had been back then. That he had never been truly understood--not by Deak or Fixer or Camie; not by Biggs, or even Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, who had loved him as if he had been their own flesh and blood, but had never really known the restlessness and longing he’d carried within him his entire life. 

 

The only one who had ever understood was Callista.

 

She had known that feeling of isolation as well--known what it was to possess a gift that already set her apart even as a little girl; to be loved by a father who could neither understand nor bring himself to acknowledge her power; to be different and have the vague sense that something awaited her--something for which she had no name yet, but of which she was certain nevertheless. As he had been certain once his path crossed with Ben’s.

 

Without turning his head, he watched her as she sat wordlessly beside him, her eyes fixed on the swirling mass of rocks and dust that circled the heavens and seemed to part as they approached, revealing the imposing planet that loomed before them. Callista rested one hand on the control panel and draped the other across her lap as she looked straight ahead with barely a movement, except for the slight rising and falling of her chest as she breathed.

 

As his eyes followed the rhythm of her breath, Luke couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking at that very moment. There was a time when he would have known without even having to ask--when he could hear her thoughts as clearly as if her husky alto had been speaking to him.

 

When the link they shared through the Force was so alive and vibrant that he no longer knew where he ended and she began.

 

But now he heard nothing, not even the faintest whisper of words from her mind. And yet at times he could almost swear that he still sensed her thoughts somehow--that he could tell by the exact shade of gray in her eyes when they looked into his; the shape of her mouth when she smiled; the feel of her touch when she reached out to him. Even without the Force he felt every bit of her unforgettable presence, as if she had been ingrained in him from the moment they met.

 

A part of him ever since.

 

The navicomputer buzzed softly underneath his fingertips, demanding his attention and shaking him out of his reverie--shaking Callista out of hers as well, as she straightened and turned to him. Before them, one of the buttons on the panel was blinking maddeningly. She reached over to punch it, the small monitor on her right awakening in a seemingly endless stream of words and images that scrolled across its screen.

 

“Gerridion,” Threepio mused, leaning over her shoulder to get a closer look at the information being generated by the navicomputer. “It may take a little effort to be inconspicuous there, Master Luke. According to the central database, it’s sparsely populated now. Settlements are concentrated on the five major continents on the planet, the largest of which seem to be located on the biggest continent--Halderia...”

 

“That must be it right here.” Callista said, tracing the outline of a large, shapeless landmass on the three-dimensional model, tapping the screen for emphasis. “I do get a very high life reading on it. That’s a good sign.”

 

“Halderia--I do believe that the esteemed senator from this sector hails from that very place, Master Luke-”

 

“Does the computer have anything on what the dominant language is there? Will they be able to speak Basic?” Luke felt a twinge of guilt at having to cut the protocol droid off, but, though he normally found Threepio’s extensive knowledge base of facts and trivia fascinating--or at the very least amusing--at the moment he was more concerned with only relevant information.

 

Unfazed, Threepio looked back towards the monitor. “The planet was originally settled by traders from the core worlds, sir. Their main form of communication has always been Basic, although there are other languages that are spoken, mostly from other inhabitants whose ancestors settled in the planet over the centuries. We should have no trouble with them, Master Luke. After all, I _am_ fluent in over six million forms of communication...”

 

Luke leaned back in his seat and nodded without looking up from the monitor. After a while he looked beside him at Callista. “I’d say our  best bet to find information is to go there then.”

 

“Oh yes, I heartily agree, Master Luke,” Threepio said. “Artoo says the chances of locating the hidden Sith somewhere in Halderia is approximately three hundred thirty-seven thousand to one.” After a thoughtful pause, Threepio added, “Those odds are quite promising, sir.”

 

Luke thought for a moment about asking the droid exactly how Artoo determined those odds, but, realizing the answer may lie in a long-winded explanation, thought the better of it and simply smiled.

 

“So,” Callista said, scanning the monitor once again, “what’s our plan?”

 

“The plan...” He brought a hand to his chin, his finger absently running over the tiny scar over his lip that had been the lasting mark of his near-death encounter with a Wampa fourteen years ago. “Han always used to say that plans are overrated anyway. Things never go as you expect them to, so they end up being useless in the end.”

 

She grinned and rolled her eyes. “Yes, and those are certainly wise words from General Solo, but just the same, I’d feel a lot better if we had something in mind ahead of time--even if none of it goes exactly as we plan them to.”

 

“Then again, Han always seems to find a way to get into trouble, so maybe his philosophy isn’t exactly flawless.”

 

He stood from his seat and walked over to Callista’s right side, leaning forward to look closer at the information on the monitor.

 

“Well, you heard Threepio, the odds of finding something on Halderia are a lot higher than if we go to the settlements on the other continents. Halderia it is. Let’s talk to as many of the natives as we can and get whatever information they can provide. There’s got to be something by way of local legend--I bet someone somewhere has some story about this that everyone has just laughed off till now. If we could give some hapless soul a sympathetic ear, we might just end up with what we’re looking for.”

 

“I sure hope so,” she said. “But then again, Luke, I had never heard any local legend about a hidden Sith buried somewhere in the oceans of Chad.” She tilted her head to look up at him and smiled. “Let’s just say it was quite a shock to have him wash up on our ark.”

 

“I would imagine,” he said, chuckling. “With any luck, Rath will find it just as complicated to locate his friends. And in the meantime, that may buy us the time we need to make some headway.”

He heard her let out a heavy sigh.

 

“I just hope luck is on our side this time.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

Sharp spears of light jumped from the bits of quartz in the blanket of dirt and sand on the ground. With the shattered light came heat: a merciless, pounding heat that Callista had never once experienced in her many travels across the galaxy, nor even imagined could have existed. Of course, she had grown up on a water planet; by comparison, every climate seemed extreme compared to the one on Chad--at least she had thought so as a little girl, when Uncle Claine would sit her on his lap and tell her stories of his younger days as a trader roaming the galaxy. She never was quite sure if she could believe him, though. Somehow, the images seemed far too fantastical for even her young, impressionable mind to imagine: deserts that stretched cross whole continents; boundless fields of long-bladed grass that covered the earth; ice and snow that left the ground beneath them dead and barren year-round. To a child who had known only the mighty oceans of Chad her entire life, and had learned to speak the language of the tides that rose and receded with its temperamental moons, Uncle Claine’s stories seemed nothing more than products of his overactive imagination. He had teased her at her ever-present skepticism back then; later, she would come to laugh at it too, once she saw some of these worlds for herself as an adult_. _

But even Uncle Claine would have been surprised at this kind of heat, she thought with an exasperated smile, as sweat began to trickle down her temples and into the corners of her mouth where its saltiness stung her. With a grimace, she wiped it away with her sleeve, though that seemed to do the trick only temporarily.

 

Beside her, Luke looked completely unaffected. She watched him casually push the sleeves of his flight suit up to his elbows and bring his gear from out of the ship, as if oblivious to the high noon sun. If he felt the savage rays at all--if he felt them pricking his skin as they did hers right now--he showed no signs of it. Callista smiled to herself as she stole a sideways glance at him. She should have known that a desert farmboy like him would have felt perfectly at ease in this sort of heat; this probably felt no warmer than a cool spring day on Tatooine.

 

He pulled a  small scanning device out of his backpack and held it out before him, panning across the surroundings of their makeshift landing dock--a moderately shallow canyon carved out by some body of water that Callista guessed had probably dried out long before any of the planet’s original settlers had ever made their home on this world. On the computer-generated map, the canyon had looked like a relatively isolated spot--not too far from the cluster of settlements in the center of the Halderian continent, but far enough for their ship to land unnoticed, and remain out of plain view for the time being.

 

“I don’t get any life readings within a 30 kilometer radius,” he said. He shut off the scanner and turned around to look at her. “Not any human life, anyway. Looks like we picked our spot pretty well.”

 

“You think the ship’ll be safe here, then?”

 

He walked towards the ship and ran a hand down the side of its armor. “I won’t lie to you,” he said. “I’d feel a thousand times better if we had a cloaking device installed on this thing, but since we’ve got no choice than to go without one... I’d say this place is as good a hiding place as we’re going to get, don’t you think?”

 

She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked in at the reddish-orange canyon walls in the distance. “Barring any rock slides or any other natural disasters,” she said matter-of-factly.

 

He laughed. “Well, if this were the _Falcon_, I’d be a little more worried--Han notices every little scratch and he holds grudges forever. I’m not nearly as protective over my ship though. Anyway, I think it’s safe to assume that she’ll be in one piece when we come back.”

 

“Those walls look pretty steep, Luke,” she said after a while, her eyes once again returning to the formation of rock that enclosed them. “And rough. You think the droids’ll be able to make it up there?”

 

“I saw a pathway down there,” he said, pointing to the narrow ledge that wound around up to the top of the canyon wall. “It’ll take us a little more time to get to the surface, but I’d rather not leave the droids behind here if at all possible. We’re going to need them once we get into town. Besides, I have it on good authority from the jawas who sold them to us that those two are quite the experts on rock climbing. In fact, I think that was pretty much the deal clincher for Uncle Owen.” 

 

For a moment, she forgot about the sticky discomfort of the heat and laughed softly. “Well good, I’m glad to hear that, then. It’s been a while since I’ve scaled walls-”

 

“Master Luke, Mistress Callista! Wait for us!”

 

As if on cue, Threepio emerged from the ship, a blur of muted gold in the brightness of day, running towards them as fast as his joints would allow, no doubt fearing he would be left behind. Artoo followed close behind him, rolling his way down the gangway and nearly stumbling on a jagged piece of rock at the foot of the ramp. He sputtered out a slew of high-pitched electronic sounds--Callista wondered if it was his way of cursing--and the noise apparently drew Threepio’s attention for the moment. He turned around and proceeded to scold his counterpart. “Don’t you use that tone with me, Artoo Detoo--I _did_ tell you to watch yourself! You know this is a strange place, why don’t you listen to me and be more careful?”

 

The astromech remained indignant, spitting out an irritated reply that was promptly ignored.

 

“Oh, switch off! All you ever do is complain-”

 

Luke must have decided it was time to intervene. Urgently. “You were about to tell us something, Threepio?”

 

“Oh! Oh yes, of course sir, excuse me... Artoo and I received some last minute information from the computer. Apparently, there are several cities just beyond this canyon. The closest one is Legori City, about thirty-seven kilometers to the north. It’s one of the smaller cities on Halderia, but it’s got a fairly decent population. You and Mistress Callista should be able to find enough people there who might be able to help you.”

 

“Thirty-seven kilometers,” he said, turning to Callista. “That’s not too bad, is it? It shouldn’t take us more than a couple of hours to get there. We may even have some time to scout the town.”

 

She nodded, but she barely registered his words. She was too busy examining plain dark blue flight suit she wore, running a hand down its rough, stiff fabric.

 

“You know, given the way we’re dressed… it’s going to be quite apparent right away that we’re out-of-towners.” She looked up at Luke. “We never did get a chance to come up with our story. I think we better do that now before we start running into locals and come up blank when they ask us questions.”

 

“Ah yes, the fun part.”

 

He slid the strap of his backpack down his arm and unzipped the bag to examine its contents: rolled up clothes, tins of dehydrated food, bottled water, and a half-dozen other survival items they had stuffed in the bag at the last minute--both of them had been through enough to know to always be prepared for whatever circumstances might await them, and they had each packed accordingly.

 

“Not much here to get creative with,” he said. “So far, we just look like a couple of tourists roughing it on a camping trip.”

 

“We’re going to be asking an awful lot of questions for a couple of tourists--people will get suspicious really fast unless we have a good reason to be asking them.”

 

He seemed to give it some thought, then after a while, broke into a smile. “Not unless we’re specifically here to ask questions...”

 

“What do you have in mind?”

 

“What if we told people we’re scholars? Historians from some obscure university in the core worlds…”

 

“Just… make one up?”

 

Luke shrugged. “Sure, why not? They’ll never know. This isn’t exactly what you’d call a bustling system. Most people probably won’t have ever ventured out of their continent, let alone out of their planet.”

 

Callista’s mind flashed back to her own father. Uncle Claine had roamed the galaxy when he was younger, while Papa had stayed behind. She wondered what kind of life she would have led had she followed his path instead of answering the call of the Force.

 

“OK,” she said at last. “So… we tell them we’re doing research on ancient legends, and we’ve come to Gerridion to gather information on an old legend we’ve come across, about a young man named T’min Fals who was rumored to have come here and then disappeared without a trace...”

 

“Exactly,” Luke said. Then he added with a laugh, “And if the people here are anything like the folks in Anchorhead who hung around the marketplace till sundown, it won’t take much on our part to get them talking.”

 

“We may just be able to pull that off…”

 

“What can I say, sometimes I do manage to come up with something brilliant.”

 

She grinned at his self-deprecating remark. “Well, I always said you were diabolically clever.”

 

“You spend a few years in the Rebellion, you pick up a thing or two,” he said. “Especially when you’ve got Han Solo for a best friend.”

 

“Pardon me for asking, sir, madam,” Threepio said. He really did have impeccable timing. “But how can we be sure that this Darth Rath person hasn’t already been here?”

 

The mere mention of Rath’s name felt like a strangle-hold on Callista’s throat. She swallowed hard and looked to Luke once again.

 

“Yes, well… that’s where it gets tricky,” she said. “Threepio’s right, Luke... Before we even get into this, we’ve got to know if Rath’s already got his fingerprints all over the place. Otherwise... Otherwise this little excursion will have all been for nothing.”

 

“How about we worry about plan B if plan A fails?”

 

“But according to the eminent General Solo,” she reminded him with a smile, “it will.”

 

Luke shook his head, and she caught a hint of the playful wink she remembered so well. “Not if I can help it.”

 

He paused for  a moment--he must have seen her wipe her brow for the third time in the last five minutes, because he reached inside his backpack for a bottle of water and handed it to her. “Here… you look like you’re about to melt on me. I packed a few extra bottles.”

 

“I didn’t come too prepared, did I?” she said, laughing as she took the bottle from him. “I guess it’s pretty obvious that I’m not quite used to this kind of weather.”

 

“That’s what I’m here for. Besides, after a while, you won’t even notice how hot it is anymore.”

 

She responded with an incredulous look.

 

He held up his hand. “I swear,” he said. “You’ll be amazed at the kind of tolerance you can build after only a few days of this.”

 

“Looking forward to it already.”

 

“That’s the spirit.”

 

He reached back inside to pull out a datapad, then punched at it to bring it back to life. A three-dimensional map of their surroundings appeared in the next moment, and he studied it intently, as though familiarizing himself with the terrain.

 

She watched him in silence for a few minutes, then after a while, she said, “Was it like this on Tatooine?”

 

He looked up at her, his eyes registering mild surprise. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting the question. Neither had she expected to ask it.

 

“I just… remember you telling me stories about how hot it would get in the daytime.”

 

“Brutal,” he said. “You would have hated it.”

 

“Would I?”

 

He smiled, then broke the gaze. She saw his golden cheeks turn tawny--when he blushed it was always subtle, but she always knew when he did.

 

And then a memory of a different time, a different place came to her, unbidden. Underneath the star-studded Yavin sky and him holding her, telling her of krayt dragons and the Sandpeople, and the sand dunes he’d hide behind when he wanted to take a break from the monotony of moisture farming. At once, the hollow ache of remembering returned to her, as always, too much to bear.

 

“I was going to take you to our homestead, if we ever made it back there,” he said softly. “What’s left of it, anyway. I wanted you to see Anchorhead, Mos Eisley, where I grew up… I wanted… to share that all with you.”

 

Somewhere deep inside the words made her chest pound, even as they stung some freshly bandaged wound within her. The heat bore down on her face again, this time mixed with the warmth of her flushed cheeks. Without looking in his eyes, she said, “I was going to take you to Chad too, remember?”

 

He smiled, a wistful smile laced with sadness at the memory. “For our honeymoon,” he said, nodding. “I remember. I thought about going there anyway, after...”

 

_After I left._

 

The words felt harsh, even in her thoughts--empty and bitter, like the unfulfilled promise that had eluded them both. At length, she drew breath and met his gaze again.

 

“So, Professor… what do you say we get started on our research?”

 

The boyish, flustered smile appeared again. “After you.”

 

* * *

 

Captain Ugmush would have felt right at home in the noisy, congested marketplace in the central square of Legori City.

 

Callista wrinkled her nose as a host of pungent and exotic smells wafted towards them from all directions: an odd, yet potent mix of cinnamon and fruit, cured meat and leather, and the cloud-full of dust kicked up in the air by dozens of feet that trampled on the ground in the cramped area, burning Callista’s eyes and throat. It seemed as if all--or at least most--of Legori City’s residents had congregated here in this late afternoon to examine the wares of the various vendors, and of course gossip and mingle and catch up with one another. Her former captain might have bristled at having to be in such close contact with humans--she might have even gotten into some sort of altercation with some poor, unsuspecting vendor who no doubt would have been unable to appreciate _Gamorrean-style_ bargaining tactics—but the sow would have nevertheless delighted in the strange odors that clung stubbornly in the air and on their clothes, and she would have found the almost disorienting noise comforting. 

 

Just beyond them, the sun was slowly sinking into the apricot sky, and the din of townsfolk had in turn begun to fade into a soft rumble as people started to disperse and go off to their various destinations: women headed home to their families, clutching bags overflowing with produce and meat, and useless trinkets that visiting vendors had managed to pawn off on them; others--men and women alike--clad in clothes stained heavily with dust and dirt, headed into what Callista guessed to be cantinas, if the sound of the raucous noise and music that blared from within them was any indication.

 

“Well, at least we can be sure this isn’t some kind of ghost town,” Luke said beside her. “From the looks of things, we’ll have plenty of folks to talk to here.”

 

“Of course, how willing they are to open up to perfect strangers--that’s something else entirely.”

 

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

 

He had been looking in the same direction she had been: at the row of compact adobe structures that lined one side of the dirt road like tiny, drab boxes stuck together, whose uniform gray-white paint--once probably a multitude a colors, but since faded by time and the harsh sun--was chipped and peeling. Music spilled onto the streets from their lighted interiors, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of laughter and hooting.

 

Luke turned to her. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

_Probably_, she said in her mind, and the thought brought a smile to her lips. “The people in there sure sound like they’re in a good mood. They might even be a little chatty--even with a couple of outlanders like us...”

 

“Chatty enough for us to get some useful information, with any luck.”

 

He fell silent for a few moments. She looked back at him, wondering why he said nothing, and she recognized the far-off expression in his eyes: a look she had seen on him many times before, when she knew he was thinking of his past, and the boy he had once been in another lifetime--long before the countless deaths and battles and incomprehensible losses had left their scars and drained his innocence away.

 

“The first time I came to a place like this,” he began quietly, a hot, dry breeze gently lifting his sandy hair from his forehead, showing the youth in his otherwise wise face, “Ben told me to watch my step.” He laughed and shook his head, looking at her as if searching out the memory somewhere in her eyes. “I was so cocky... I was so sure I’d be able to handle myself in there, but Ben knew I was in over my head--only I didn’t know it yet...”

 

She smiled, feeling as if she had shared that moment with him as well--experienced it with him in some forgotten dream aboard the _Eye_. “I think it’s safe to say that you can more than hold your own now.”

 

She saw him reach down and touch the lightsaber at his hip, an involuntary gesture she herself made all the time--that all Jedi made--out of habit. Her eyes met his, and an understanding passed between them, a silent comprehension exchanged between two people who had once shared the common language of the Force.

 

“Sir?”

 

Threepio leaned forward to tap Luke on the shoulder. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but... should Artoo and I remain out here when you and Mistress Callista go into one of those cantinas? If I remember correctly, Master Luke, droids aren’t very welcome in such establishments.”

 

Callista turned back in the direction of the cantinas. A steady stream of people continued to pour into the small structures, but, as Luke would have no doubt also noticed, no droid had entered any of the cantinas in the time that they had been standing and watching the crowds.

 

At last, Luke sighed and nodded. “I’d hate to leave you two out here, but I doubt that ‘no droids’ policy has changed much over the years--no matter planet we happen to be on.”

 

“We understand perfectly, sir.”

 

“Do me a favor, though, would you? Make sure you stand close to the door. Callista and I will be able to keep an eye out on you that way... Just in case...”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

The split-second pause before his last comment was barely noticeable--she had wondered for a moment if she had actually heard it--but she knew it couldn’t have been her imagination when she caught his momentary glance at her before he began to walk in the direction of one of the larger cantinas.

 

He hadn’t said so out loud, but she knew: he sensed something.

 

_If I only had the Force, I could... _

 

Some part of her wouldn’t let her finish the thought in her mind. The knowledge that she wouldn’t be able to help him in this way--in the way she wanted so desperately to--once again knifed at her without mercy. 

 

But this was no time for self-pity, she knew that. She would do what she could, that much she vowed--to herself, and to Luke. Softly, so as not to alarm the already jumpy Threepio, she said, “What is it? You felt something?”

 

Luke looked at her, his eyes already speaking volumes before he ever spoke a word.

 

“Something’s not right here,” he said. “There’s... I just think we need to keep our eyes open.”

 

She nodded and took a quick glance around her, hastening her pace to keep up with him. The droids followed soundlessly behind them as they came to the doorway of a cantina. A brawny Tulderian stood guard at the front entrance, all two and a half meters of him eclipsing them, his sharpened tusks merely centimeters away from their faces. His muscles, covered all over with a thin carpet of gray fur, flexed and hardened, a silent threat meant to show them--if they hadn’t already come to the conclusion themselves--that he was there for the sole purpose of enforcing whatever the rules of the cantina were.

 

“Hrrrsh! Urrdsh, sha, hrrsh!”

 

“Oh my!” Threepio was the first to panic, followed by Artoo, who let forth a series of incomprehensible whistles. “M-master Luke, he says we don’t belong here... I do suggest we find another establishment, sir. It appears there are plenty of other ones we could-”

 

Luke remained calm, laying a hand on Threepio’s shoulder to quiet him and looking the Tulderian straight in the eyes. Callista knew he was using the Jedi mind trick to mollify the alien--she watched him smile and gesture to the guard.

 

“Let us pass?” he said, his hand making the tell-tale wave at his waist, away from the suspicious eyes of the guard. “We won’t cause trouble.”

 

The Tulderian relaxed his muscles and released an affirmative grunt.

 

“I... I think he’s letting us pass through!” Threepio said. The droid started to step inside, but the Tulderian swung his massive arm and hit Threepio squarely in the chest, nearly knocking the droid to the ground. “Or p-perhaps not... We’ll wait for you and Mistress Callista out here, sir...”

 

“Remember,” Luke said. “Close to the door where we can see you.” He nodded at the guard, who grunted at him but stepped aside to let him and Callista enter. “And at the first sign of trouble-”

 

“We’ll be sure to alert you, Master Luke.”

 

Callista followed him in, nearly choking on the thick hooka smoke that enveloped the air like fog. A heavy-set man, tapping his hand at the counter in time to the rhythm of the music, took a long drag out of one of the many hooka pipes at the bar, inhaling deeply, then letting out rings of smoke slowly as if savoring every bit of the experience.

 

“Ha, you think you can beat me?” he yelled above the wail of the kloo horn soloist. “You think you can beat me?!”

 

The man sitting beside him, dressed in gray denim that looked almost brown from the dust that had ingrained itself in the fabric, laughed heartily, then slapped his hand on the bar. “Fifty serfas says that smoke’s gone to your head!”

 

The first man took another drag out of the pipe and leaned towards the other. “Which means you’ll be buying the next round of drinks,” he said, laughing as he took the money and shoved it in his pocket. “You’re on!” He grabbed the other man’s hand and jammed their elbows on the counter. “Give me what you’ve got,” he shouted again, and they proceeded in a grunt-filled arm-wrestling match that lasted only a few seconds until the first man easily pinned the other’s forearm to the bar.

 

“Blast! No--I, uh, wasn’t ready! I want a rematch!”

 

The man laughed, and reached for the hooka pipe again. “Had enough yet?” He turned beside him, now noticing that Luke and Callista had been watching them, and snarled, “What are you lookin’ at?”

 

“Pretty good technique,” Luke said, coming closer.

 

The man exhaled a puff of smoke. “It ain’t technique, buddy, it’s talent.”

 

Luke grinned. “I’d’ve leaned in towards him a little bit more--you’ve got more power that way.”

 

“You think you know better than me?”

 

“Just giving you a little tip, that’s all.”

 

The man slammed his elbow on the bar. “You think you can take me? Gavin here thought that a couple of minutes ago and you saw what I did to him.”

 

Calmly, Luke sat beside him and clasped his hand. There was no fear in his eyes, Callista observed. No intimidation, no tentativeness. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him--he looked perfectly at ease in this place, as if he had spent years among the seedy crowds in the notorious cantinas on Turras 8, or Bantooine.

 

The man did not seem to regard Luke as much of a threat. With a smirk he turned to his friend and said, “When I’m through with him, I’ll give you your re-match.”

 

Luke held his smile in check and winked at Callista while the man wasn’t looking. With what seemed like no effort at all, he drove the man’s arm into the bar, eliciting shock from the speechless patron.

 

“What the…”

 

“Lean forward,” Luke said nonchalantly, the twinkle in his eyes a little too noticeable though Callista knew he was trying hard not to show it. “That’s the secret. Works every time.”

 

“Well I’ll be damned...” He chuckled softly, then shook Luke’s hand, gesturing to the bartender to bring over some drinks. “Any man who beats me definitely deserves a free drink.” He nodded towards Callista. “And what’s your lady friend going to have?”

 

She sat beside Luke. “I’ll have a Corellian ale, if you’ve got it.”

 

“We’ve got it all right, little lady,” the man said. “But it’s flat as that pathetic singer over there. Here...” He shoved the drink in her hand, then slapped Luke on the shoulder. “Roug. Roug Dann. I own the place.”

 

“Luke Lars,” Luke said, extending his hand.

 

“Good to meet you, Luke. And what is your lovely wife’s name?”

 

Even in the smoky light, Callista could see the red in Luke’s cheeks. The comment had caught both of them off-guard.

 

“She’s... she’s, uh-”

 

“Callista.” For a moment, something in her, a spirit of mischief--or perhaps some part that really did want to pretend, even for a little bit--was tempted to let Roug’s mistake lie uncorrected, but in the end, she decided against it. “Callista Darvis. I’m... Luke’s colleague. You’ve got quite a place here, Roug.”

 

He shrugged. “It manages to keep afloat,” he said. “We had a hard time getting back on our feet after the Empire kept us under its heel all those years. It’s taken me over fifteen years, but I’ve finally begun to climb back from the pit that we were in.” He gestured at her backpack. “So you two aren’t from around here, are ya? What brings you to our little burg here? Say, you aren’t one of those smooth-talkin’ vendors from Haddan City are you? ‘Cause if you are, I ain’t buyin’-”

 

“No, no...” Luke laughed and set his drink down on the table. “Actually, we’re not even from Gerridion at all. We’re from Corellia.”

 

“Corellia? That’s a long way from here, buddy. What brings you two kids to our part of the galaxy?”

 

Luke looked at Callista and smiled. “Funny you should ask that, because... we were hoping you could help us.”

 

Roug wrinkled his brow. “Wait, wait a minute... I don’t know what you’re after, but-”

 

“No,” Callista said, “it’s nothing like that. You see, Luke and I--we’re historians. The Od’iin Institute gave us a very substantial grant a few months ago, and it’s our chance to do the research we’ve been wanting to do for a long time...”

 

“Research?” Roug straightened, looking more than a little skeptical. Callista prayed this little gamble would work. “How could a guy like me possibly help?”

 

“You can help us out more than you think,” Luke told him. “Owning a place like this--you’ve surely come across some tall tales over the years, haven’t you?”

 

Roug slapped his knee and laughed. “Well of course! I’ve heard some real doozies in my time... But why would you be interested in some bar stories?”

 

“Some of those bar stories could be quite insightful Roug,” Callista said. “You see, that’s what are research is all about, Roug. We study myths and legends from all over the galaxy, and then we see if there’s any historical evidence to show that there’s a grain of truth in them. There’s one in particular from here that we’ve wanted to find out more about for a long time... Have you ever heard of the story of T’min Fals?”

 

For what seemed like an eternity, Roug said nothing, then, as if ashamed, he looked down on the bar and shook his head. “There’s a lot of stuff that flies around in here. I can’t remember every single thing I’ve ever heard.” There was an edge to his voice, something that made Callista look to Luke right away.

 

“So you don’t know anything about the story?”

 

Roug shrugged, then shook his head once more. “Can’t help you--I’m sorry...”

 

Callista knew there was something behind the words, but Luke’s eyes told her they needed to let this go for now. “It’s all right, Roug... We have a few more days to gather our research on this…”

 

“So,” Luke said, “I don’t suppose you could recommend a place for us to stay in while we’re in town?”

 

Roug grinned. “You’ve asked the right person,” he said. “It so happens I own an inn just down the street. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s clean, and it’s got air conditioning. I’ll even let you two stay for free--that’ll be my attempt at civic hospitality.”

 

“That’s very generous of you. Thank you.”

 

He nodded. “Sure thing. I, uh, wish I could have helped you… Hey, if you get nothing else out of this place, at least you had a decent night’s rest, huh?”

 

Luke turned beside him at Callista and nodded. “I have a feeling we’ll get more than that when this is all over,” he said, then smiled. “Something tells me we’ll find exactly what we’re looking for here.”


	10. Chapter 10

Luke hadn’t known he was dreaming until he woke much later.

 

And when he did, he wondered why he hadn’t known it far sooner--why he hadn’t felt it somehow in the bizarre, out-of-place images, in the things that transpired that never would have taken place in the reality that he knew. He wondered how he failed to sense it from the hollow drumbeat of his chest, the steady ache in his bones, the cold sweat that had formed on his skin and evaporated almost instantaneously into the grim air. 

 

He should have guessed from the beginning that all of it--all he was about to witness and experience--was wrong. Very wrong.

 

But perhaps, he would come to think later, he hadn’t really wanted to believe that it was. Perhaps it had been easier for him to be deluded by the false images, and, in some strange and frightening way, to allow himself to be swayed by them.

 

The dream started the same way all the others had. He had lived through it so many nights--over and over again in the past few weeks--that by now he knew every detail of it by heart, as if it had been meticulously scripted by an inner instinct he could not name. First came the familiar darkness that fell on him, a thick darkness that enveloped him in its sheath but held no warmth or comfort, only a danger he could not pinpoint. Then, as before, came the images. Slowly they appeared, materializing one at a time out of the matte blackness as if conjured up by some unknown and unseen magic.

 

He saw his own arms and legs, fighting to touch something solid; the bed of dirt and gravel underneath his boots; the rings of mist which formed wherever he breathed.

 

And Callista. Again, he saw Callista.

 

Though he had dreamt this nightmare far too many times over the past few weeks, none of the images had grown any clearer with time, nor had they revealed any further clues that his Jedi instincts might have recognized. All the visions had remained, Luke thought in frustration, as hazy and ambiguous as ever. Except for one. One image remained sharp and focused above all the rest: Callista. When all other gossamer, elusive remnants had long since fled into oblivion in the light of day, the sound of her husky voice, the saltwater fragrance of her, the silhouette of her sleek figure stayed with him through the waking hours--burned in his every conscious thought.

 

Making him hurt with missing her, wanting her. Making him quake with fear in the knowledge that he might lose her at any moment.

 

He should have known it then, when the darkness finally gave way to the vivid image of her, that everything he was about to witness would not--could not--be real.

 

Her smile had been different. That much he noticed right away, and in retrospect it should have been the telling sign, though it somehow eluded him. Or he had let it elude him. He felt no fear in her either--none of the breathless, choking fright he had sensed in previous dreams, that had poisoned the air between them with its intensity. She was, he came to realize, free of the tension and doubt that had paralyzed her before, but there was an air of indifference in their place, something that told him that the person who stood before him was not the lover he knew.

 

Even her voice was different when she spoke.

 

“It’s over, Luke,” she said. The voice was startlingly smooth like honey, absent of the slight roughness that marked it as her own. It was the same pitch and timbre as the voice he knew so well, but somehow much too sweet, too cocky, too sure of itself. She smiled at him again, sending a flood of adrenaline through his bloodstream--though he didn’t know whether lust or fear had sent it. “There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. I’m free... Finally free...”

 

The words sounded strangely false. They should have sent his heart soaring; he’d wanted nothing more in the last six years than to hear them--and he would have taken her in his arms and flung her around with joy had something about them, something he could not put a finger on, not chilled his skin.

 

He remained standing in his spot, unable to bring himself to move closer to her, but unable to take his eyes off her either.

 

As if suddenly aware of the silence between them, she cocked her head, for a moment looking like a frightened child again, one who expected reproach of some kind but was unaware of what she had done wrong. “Luke,” she said, her voice almost--but not quite--returning to its familiar self when she spoke his name, “what is it?”

 

He shook his head, confused, dazed, not knowing anymore what senses he could trust--if he could trust any of them at all. “I... I don’t know...”

 

But he did. Of course he did. He just didn’t want to admit it to her--or to himself.

 

She stood before him now, having floated effortlessly to him without him even realizing it. The sound of his staccato breath made him all too aware of his body’s natural reaction to her proximity. He didn’t resist when she came up to him and laid her forehead on his shoulder, as she always did when he held her. He felt the hot air from her mouth on his collarbone and on instinct, he pressed his hand on the small of her back to draw her to him.

 

He hovered somewhere between conscious will and human impulse, not sure if he was even trying to choose between one or the other. Not sure of anything at the moment, really--other than the warm sea-scent of her thick hair, and the velvet feel of her skin on his. “Callie,” he said, letting the words tumble from his tongue of their own will, “this... isn’t you...” And even as he said it, he wondered why, in spite of the truth that stared him in the face, he found himself still holding on to her, as if letting go meant losing the most precious thing in life. “What’s happening?”

 

She eased herself off him to look at him. Half-amused, she gave him a smile and tilted her head, and his eye followed the stray lock of hair that fell from her loose braid and grazed her jaw seductively.

 

In an instant, he felt even more vulnerable to her spell--as if that were even possible.

 

“Can’t you feel it?” she said, her voice thick with triumph.

_Yes_, his mind answered without hesitation.

 

“My powers are back, Luke... I finally have them back...”__

_No... No, Callista, don’t let it fool you_...

 

At once he remembered another moment when he had felt her powers as well--a dream, perhaps? Yes, that first dream of her, when he had felt her immeasurable joy at having felt his presence... But this was different, for what he felt in her was the dark side--a ribbon of darkness that had entrenched itself into her soul.

 

A frightening surge of power in her that had all but overpowered the light.

 

It took a herculean effort to fight his growing intoxication--and he wasn’t even sure he had succeeded. “Callie,” he said, knowing somewhere in the forgotten corners of his mind that he needed to tell her this. “It isn’t what you think... Don’t-”

 

“Don’t what?”

 

Her eyes darkened to a stormy gray and she tore herself from him, like a bandage ripped off a fresh wound, and he drew his arms up instinctively to reach for hers again. “Don’t grab the chance to reclaim the part of myself that was _stolen_ from me?” Tears formed in her eyes, kept from spilling only by her diamond-hard defiance, and she began to shake with each breath she took in. “You don’t know, Luke,” she said at last, surprisingly without bitterness or emotion--with nothing but the resigned tone of truth. “You don’t know the emptiness I’ve felt the last six years.”

 

“I do-”

 

“No,” she said. “You don’t.” This time the pain surfaced in her voice, and she lowered her gaze for a moment before returning her eyes to his. “I know how hard you tried to understand me. Force knows how I love you so for trying. But you can’t, Luke--you can’t know. And I pray every day that you never will know the hell I’ve been in.”

 

The hardness of her eyes scared him. It was a desperation he did not recognize, one he’d never seen in her even in her darkest of moments--not even in the nights when he’d felt her silent tears on his chest when she couldn’t sleep, when he felt the tension in all her muscles as she fought to keep herself from trembling so he wouldn’t know that she was crying, and all he could do was sling his arm around her protectively and hold her till she fell asleep. Not even then did he remember this kind of despair in her.

 

Softly he said, “You told me once that the dark was never the key to the light. Do you remember that?”

_Please remember that_.

 

She took her eyes away from him and gave no answer. And though he felt something stir in her, he saw the armor remained intact.

 

At last she said without apology, “I did it for you.”

 

He stared blankly at her--knowing what she meant, but unable to believe she was actually saying it. “I never would have asked you to-”

 

“I know you wouldn’t have asked,” she said. “But you and I both know the only way we could ever be together again was if I could be whole again. This is the only way I’ll ever be whole again, Luke. We both know that. We’ve always known it. We were just too damn afraid to admit it to ourselves.”

 

He shook his head. No... There had to be another way... There had to...

 

“There was no other way, Luke...”

 

She came up to him again, sliding her arms up his chest and around his neck. He closed his eyes, letting the heat of her enter his pores. “But it’s over now,” she whispered, and once again pressed her cheek on his shoulder. “I stopped resisting. We can finally be together, my love.”

 

Her voice made him dizzy, brought out every primal instinct in him. “Callie, we could have found another way... You didn’t have to do this...” He was aware of his voice trailing, aware of the words evaporating from his mind, and as the promise of her skin tempted him, he knew his resolve was slowly crumbling into nothingness.

 

“Join me,” she whispered.

 

He had heard the same invitation before--from a father to his orphan son, and in an instant all the childhood fantasies and dreams were torn asunder with one revelation. And yet he had managed to resist the temptation then.

 

So why was it so damn hard to resist now?

 

“It’s not so bad,” she said, as if trying to convince herself as well. “The masters... They didn’t know... They were afraid of it because they didn’t know it. But you won’t lose anything, Luke. Everything you think you’ll lose in the light, you will gain in the dark. I promise...”

_Once you start down the dark path_...

 

Callista’s voice drowned out Yoda’s. Drowned out Ben’s. Drowned out his father’s.

_Join me, my love_... _We deserve it... We deserve to take back what was stolen from us_...

 

She pulled his face towards hers, and what little resolve he had left melted away in that instant.

 

He kissed her lips voraciously, taking her in like a man taking in water after going weeks in the desert without a single drop. He felt the fire underneath her skin, underneath his--they had fused into one and he could no longer distinguish between her flesh and his own--and he pressed himself against her, as if it were impossible for the space between them to be small enough. Drowning in desire, he had abandoned all rational thinking. He didn’t care anymore. Didn’t care about the swamps of Dagobah, where he had vowed to serve the light forever; the fierce winds that whipped his hair at Bespin, where he had chosen death rather than joining Vader; the cold gray of the Death Star where he had stood in defiance against the Emperor.

 

_Never... I’ll never turn to the dark side..._

 

The taste of her lips was far too intoxicating for him to turn back now.

 

The buzz in his head was far too overpowering.

_The light will never complete you... It is the dark side that will fill you_...

 

Abruptly, she broke off the kiss, an umbilical chord suddenly severed, and she pushed him off her with a force that shocked the both of them.

 

“Cal...” He drew her once more to him, the response of a man whose precious oxygen had been cut off, but before their mouths could touch she pulled away once more.

 

“No,” she cried, shaking her head over and over. The grief he saw in her eyes was almost unbearable, but he forced himself to ignore it. “I can’t, Luke... I won’t... do this to you...”

 

He forced himself to ignore her words as well. He needed her. Needed to touch her. Needed the feel of her next to him.

 

And he didn’t care that he was losing himself.

 

“You were right,” he said, hearing the desperation in his voice, but feeling no fear from it whatsoever. He was too drunk with wanting her. “This was the only way... What did obeying the light matter if we couldn’t be together, Callista? What good did it do us but to keep us apart all these years? I’ll give it up, all of it. I will give it up for you...”

 

“No... No, Luke...”

 

She trembled before him, shivering violently like an addict in withdrawal.

 

“Go,” she said, trying to step back from him, but neither of them able to release each other’s hold. “It’s too late for me, Luke. Save yourself... Go...”

 

“I don’t care about any of it,” he whispered in her mouth. “None of it, do you hear me? Damn the light side! It cost me you... You were right... Please... Callista...”

_Give in to the dark side... It is the only way to what you desire_...

 

“I will not... do this to you... I will not...” She pounded her fists at his chest, but he refused to walk away from her. “Save yourself... Save yourself...”

 

When he opened his eyes to the darkness of his room, it was the first time he realized that he had been dreaming. And for some reason, it didn’t surprise him at all that Callista would be sitting at the edge of his bed when he woke up.

 

“Thank the Force,” she whispered, and the sound of her voice--her true voice, not the manufactured one of his dream--instantly made him sigh in relief. “I didn’t think you’d ever wake up... I’ve been trying to get you to open your eyes for the last half hour, Luke. You had me scared...”

 

He groaned softly, running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “What... happened?”

 

As if suddenly self-conscious of where she had been sitting--she had been so close to him that he could feel her uneven breath--she stood and nervously folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I’m not sure how I...”

 

He looked up at her as her words trailed off.

 

“I heard you...”

 

His lips formed a chagrined smile. “Well I’m glad Threepio and Artoo shut down for the night,” he muttered. “I might have sent Threepio into a meltdown--if _you_ could hear me in the next room, then-”

 

“No, I-”

 

Again, his eyes went to hers.

 

“You didn’t make a sound...”

 

“Then how...” He saw her move slightly, the light from the moon outside catching her face as she turned her head away from him. “Callista,” he said, “did you hear me through the Force?”

 

“I... think so... I don’t know, exactly... All I know is, I woke up all of the sudden and I knew I had to come in here to see if you were all right.”

 

Gently, so as not to alarm her, he got to his feet. “What did you hear?”

 

“I didn’t hear words, exactly,” she stammered. “More like... sensations... I felt... that there was something bad. I knew you were dreaming something bad.” He saw her drop her shoulders, then look at him again. “What was it, Luke? Was it… another premonition about me?”

 

She must have noticed his hesitation.

 

“Something’s going to happen to me... isn’t it?”

 

Luke’s voice was hoarse when he answered her. “Not if I can help it.”

 

She sighed after a few moments and much to his surprise, gently touched his arm. “Luke, I need to know. What happened to me?”

 

He let out a deep breath and thought for a moment about holding her--he knew she would need bracing once she heard this--but wondered if the gesture would overwhelm her, and in the end, he decided to let her reach for him if she needed to.

 

“Callista, none of this is set in stone yet... Yoda always told me that the future is clouded, always in motion-”

 

“Please,” she said. “Just tell me. You don’t have to protect me, Luke.”

 

She was right. He couldn’t keep this from her forever.

 

“The dark side is strong... We both know that... It’s not easy to resist if you don’t fight it with everything in you.”

 

Confusion fell on her, her brow knitted together, eyes shut momentarily before she opened them again, wide with understanding. “What are you saying...”

 

Something in him wanted to forget about the dream altogether, to make her believe it never happened. “I saw you, Callista... I saw you succumb to the dark side...” He sighed and turned away from her, not wanting him to see the look on his face, for he knew that the pain of remembering would be etched on it. “I saw both of us succumb to it, though in the end, you tried to get me to turn away.”

 

She was silent for a few moments. When he turned to face her again, he saw that she had been crying soundlessly, pearls of tears rolling unimpeded down her cheeks--silver tears in the glow of the moonlight that streaked across her face. She looked, he realized, exactly the way she had in his dream aboard the _Eye_, when he had seen her in the gun room and she’d just learned of Geith’s betrayal. He remembered the quiet strength she had displayed then, apparent even through the bitter tears she had shed.

 

Apparent even now, as she struggled to take in the harsh words he had just uttered.

 

He reached for her, but she refused his touch and shook her head.

 

“I know you,” he said. “I know you won’t let this happen. You’re stronger than that--you _will_ resist it, but you just have to be aware now. You’re going to be vulnerable to it soon... I don’t know how or--or why, but you will be, and you have to fight it, do you hear me?” Without even realizing it, he had reached for her face and cupped it in his hands.  Leaning in close, his forehead almost touching hers, he whispered, “Do you hear me? Promise me you’ll fight it, Callista…”

 

She lowered her head, once again unable to hold his gaze, and an eternity passed before she raised her head to look back up at him. “I almost took you with me...” The scared hush of her husky voice--barely audible--gave out before she could even finish the sentence, and her entire body trembled though he could see her fighting with every bit of strength she had to keep from shaking.

 

To keep herself from crumbling in front of him. Luke knew that the last thing she wanted was for him to see her in her moment of weakness.

 

“Force help me, I almost ruined you too.”

 

Luke shook his head. It was his choice--even in the dream, it had been his choice alone to make: to cling to the light or to embrace the dark. And still, he couldn’t find the words to tell her so, because deep down inside, he couldn’t deny she had been right all along. 

 

“That,” she said, slipping out of his arms, “is exactly what I’ve been afraid of.”

 

When he saw the anguish in her eyes, he understood for the first time what she meant.

 

“That’s why I left, Luke. And that’s why I stayed away.”

 

* * *

 

Luke rose early the next morning, before dawn had broken the night sky. Outside the small square pane of window in his room, there was only the stillness of the empty streets, and the weak glimmer of the few remaining stars that hadn’t yet vanished--the only source of light in the thinning darkness. Even as the sun was beginning to break through the distant mass of clouds, Legori City was still hours away from once again coming to life as the bustling, hectic tangle of people and dust and noise that he and Callista had seen yesterday upon their arrival. At this quiet hour, it seemed everything in the city--except for him--was still fast asleep.

 

But sleep was the last thing Luke wanted at that moment. He had managed only a few meaningless hours of it last night after he had woken from his nightmare, after his body had finally given in to the exhaustion he had resisted until then. For a long time after Callista had left his room, he had laid there in uneasy silence: eyes closed, but his mind unable to quiet itself no matter how much he drew on the Force to silence it. Fatigue beckoned him time and time again--his body longed to surrender to it, but he consciously refused it. At times he would find himself drifting, almost crossing the border into unconsciousness, but  at the last second, he would stop himself from letting go completely, from free-falling back into the dream he didn’t want to revisit. It was each time he slipped that the visions would come surging back to him again: one by one in rapid succession, swirling and spinning like images in a warped kaleidoscope, until his head ached from the effort to keep from drowning in them.

 

Beyond the thin wall that divided their rooms, Callista had laid awake all night too; somehow, Luke knew it beyond a doubt, even without having gone to see her in her own bed.  And he knew that in the privacy of her own room, where no one would have to  see her without the armor she wore at all times, she had cried herself to sleep. In his room, in front of him, she had tried to be strong, just as she had always been as long as he had known her. But he knew that when she had left his side and was finally left alone to deal with the unavoidable reminder of what she had spent the last six years trying to escape--the fears that had stalked her from the moment she learned the Force had abandoned her--she finally allowed herself to release the grief she had been carrying.

 

The grief that neither one had dared to acknowledge ever since she had come back.

 

A grief that Luke understood only too well.

 

With a sigh, he tore himself away from the window where he had been staring blankly for the last few minutes. Suddenly he became aware of the heavy silence in his room, the empty solitude of this early hour. He turned to walk back to his bed--with the intent of attempting to join the rest of the city in sleep--and something stopped him when he saw Threepio and Artoo sitting lifeless in the darkened far corner, like two toys that had been put away for the night.

He could sure use their company right now, he thought, smiling to himself as he walked over to their still forms. He still felt guilty for having to ask them last night to shut down until morning--with only a small power supply hook-up at their disposal, he had worried that it wouldn’t be enough to keep them on full power through the evenings until they could get back to the ship for a proper re-charge--but like two soldiers carrying on their duty, they both had complied without a single complaint, and in fact, even been the ones to suggest the nightly shut down to conserve power. Even so, Luke was anxious to re-activate them now. Their silence felt strange to him, calling attention to all-too noticeable void in the room that Luke was eager to fill in the wake of what had gone on last night.

 

“Oh! Oh good morning, Master Luke,” Threepio sputtered, jerking back to life after Luke pressed a button at the back of his neck. For a few seconds, his round, full-moon eyes flickered and blinked, then finally lit up fully. “It feels so good to be up and about again... I trust that you had a good night’s sleep, sir?”

 

Luke couldn’t help but smile--leave it to Threepio to look after him like a long-time butler fussing over his master. “Yes, I did. Thanks...”

 

Threepio said nothing in response. At times Luke wondered if, after having been with him so long, the droids knew when he wasn’t telling them the whole truth. Of course, it wouldn’t have done him any good anyway to have told Threepio what really happened last night; the always-curious protocol droid would have only asked him a million questions--questions that Luke just didn’t feel like answering right now.

 

“This should last you the next few days,” he said, inserting a power cord into the open panel on Threepio’s back, then reaching over to plug a second cord into Artoo. Perhaps, Luke thought, a change in the subject would be enough distract them. Or rather, distract him. “I’m hoping it won’t take much longer  than that to find T’min Fals’s hiding place, anyway. We certainly can’t afford to lose any more time than we already have, or...” He didn’t even want to finish the sentence. After a while, he straightened and patted Threepio on the shoulder. “You two hang on for me till then, all right?”

 

Threepio nodded without missing a beat. “Oh, there’s no need to worry about us, Master Luke, I assure you,” he said, with the confidence of one who had no inkling of what lay ahead. Luke tried to hide a smile--Threepio’s well-meaning attempts to be brave never failed to amuse him, and he was happy that the droid had gotten over his initial apprehension about the mission. “Artoo and I have made sure to switch to life-support mode, sir. Only the necessary functions will be available to both of us so we can conserve as much energy as possible and still be able to carry out our normal tasks. We can last for weeks in this capacity. We did it countless times before during the Rebellion.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Luke said, laughing softly as he disconnected the cords from them and shut off the auxiliary battery. Artoo nudged him as he turned to put the equipment away, attempting to get his attention with an especially pensive whine. Luke chuckled and patted the astromech’s domed head in response. “No, Artoo, I wouldn’t want to lose either of you at a time like this,” he said. “Callista and I have got our work cut out for us here, and we’re going to need you.”

 

Threepio rose to standing and tilted his head. “Were you able to get much information from the locals last night, sir?”

 

“’Fraid not,” Luke said. He sighed and shook his head, tossing the cables onto his bed. “I don’t know, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that they were a little tight-lipped. I really shouldn’t have expected to get our information that easily, I mean we can’t expect them to open up to perfect strangers.” He paused to let out a chuckle. “Even if some of them _were_ slightly intoxicated.”

 

“Intoxicated! Oh my...”

 

“Not quite intoxicated enough for our purposes though, were they?”

 

Luke turned his head even before Callista’s smoke-and-lavender laugh reached him from the hallway; he’d felt her eyes on him as soon as she came to the door. He looked at her, expecting her to walk in, but she didn’t move from her spot. As if uncertain about whether she should come in or not, she remained standing just outside his room, leaning one hip against the doorframe, her hand grazing the heavy lightsaber hooked to her belt loop when she brought her arms up to fold them across her chest.

 

She didn’t look like a woman who had been up most of the night. Though he could see the barely-there trace of redness in her eyes--proof that she _had_ been crying--she had managed nonetheless to somehow hide any obvious evidence of distress from the previous night. Dressed in a fitted white linen shirt, slim khakis, and tall black lace-up boots, with her heavy, unbraided malt-brown mane spilling down her shoulders and onto her back, she took Luke’s breath away--in her usual carefree, effortless way. She had never really been aware of her own beauty, not back then, and certainly not now, and it made her all the more beautiful.

 

Beautiful, even in a morning after she had been forced to confront some of her worst fears.

 

“I was up early,” she went on to explain, and as if feeling the weight of his stare, she suddenly straightened and brushed aside a loose curl that had fallen against her cheek--a gesture of nervousness that Luke had seen her make many times, though she probably wasn’t even aware she made it. “I heard voices in here, and... I thought if you were awake too, we may as well get a head start on things.”

 

“Read my mind as usual,” Luke said. When he saw Callista’s cheeks flush pink, he grinned and cleared his throat, taking his eyes off her to ease her embarrassment. He motioned for Threepio and Artoo to come closer. “Well,” he went on, “after the less-than-successful venture last night, I thought we might try a different approach today. It won’t exactly be an adrenaline rush, but if it gets us somewhere, then it’ll be worth it.”

 

Callista’s mouth formed the wry smile he loved so much. “You know something? Excitement’s way overrated, anyway.”

 

* * *

 

“Oh Luke, I think we might finally have something here...”

 

Callista’s words commanded Luke’s attention right away, but it wasn’t the urgent pull of her voice that surprised him, so much as the way she automatically reached for his arm in that brief instant. Luke smiled--so did she, as if suddenly becoming aware of the spontaneous gesture that had felt so natural to both of them. But before he even had the chance to react, the invisible wall went back up; she took her hand away and returned her eyes to the screen before them, leaving Luke to feel that once again, she was avoiding whatever this was between them that seemed to be growing more undeniable by the second.

 

Avoiding it--and doing a damn fine job of it.

 

Sometimes it seemed like such a delicate dance with her: each move, each word, each thought so carefully choreographed that neither of them dared to step out of time and risk breaking the fragile rhythm they’d both followed for so long. It should have been easy to go through the motions--Force knew they had taught themselves well enough to do so over the past few years--but with each passing moment together, it was becoming more and more impossible to ignore what was right before their very eyes.

 

As he watched her, Luke slowly became aware of the breath he had been holding all this time. With a soundless exhale he unclenched his fists and followed Callista’s eyes to the screen. This wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about their very complicated, very fractured relationship. He knew that. On the _Eye_, Callista had begged him not to let their feelings risk all for which they had fought, and without asking, he knew she would say the same to him again now. They couldn’t afford to forget what had brought them all this way; if they failed here to stop Rath in time, the price would be far too terrible to pay. And yet he also knew--somewhere in the closed-off corners of his heart--that sooner or later they would have to stop running away from the inevitable, from the ghosts they had tried long ago to leave behind. Sooner or later, they would have to stop denying the inescapable truth to each other, and to themselves.

 

But now was not that time.

 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Callista straighten and lean forward ever so slightly. The dingy keyboard before her--which looked as if it had lived a thousand interesting lives and was now only barely held together by glue and dried up plaster--rattled when she punched the enter key. “Here it is,” she murmured, holding her breath. “Wait--no! Not again...” She slumped back in her chair a second later, a small groan escaping her lips before she turned to him and with a weary laugh, said, “Now we have to wait for it to load again.” 

 

“Well that figures,” Luke said, trying to lighten the mood. He gave her a smile to show her that he did indeed share in her frustration. Somehow it didn’t surprise him that the only available computer terminal, during what seemed like an extraordinarily busy day in Legori City’s Hall of Records, also happened to be the oldest--and the slowest--terminal in the entire building. Of course, from the beginning it was somewhat obvious that Legori City was not exactly within the reaches of advanced technology. Perhaps, thought Luke, they should just be grateful to have a working computer terminal at all, even if it did happen to be far slower than most of the rag-tag machines that he and Biggs and Deak would assemble from spare parts at the Tosche station.

 

The manufactured text labored to appear on the screen, showing one agonizing word at a time, as if being woken from a century old slumber. The harsh green of the letters screamed against the black background, hurting Luke’s eyes, but he was afraid to tear himself away from the screen in case the words would vanish again when he blinked. No doubt, staring at this monitor for the better half of the day waiting for each cryptic file to load couldn’t have been good for his eyesight, but at this moment, he was willing to take his chances.

 

“I had Artoo widen the search field to all the records,” Callista explained, while the terminal continued to whir and hum. “Of course, that’s probably why it’s also taking this long. But if we’ve done this right, we should be able to get the records from all over Gerridion--not just Legori City.”

 

Artoo whistled an affirmative, and  followed up with a few more warbles.

 

“He says the central computer was experiencing a malfunction from one of its databases,” Threepio explained. “But it should be loading the information you requested now.”

 

Luke leaned in towards Callista to get a better look at the screen. As she scrolled down the document, he scanned the list of names the search called up, suddenly realizing this may have been more complicated than he first anticipated.

 

“Apparently Fals is a common name,” Callista said. She hit the enter key again to access the second page.

 

“Wait, I think I saw something...” Luke looked down at the data pad in his hand then tapped the monitor screen. “There--Emin and Odelia Fals... Those are the names of his parents... Let’s open that file and take a look.”

 

The terminal’s whirring came to an abrupt halt before the machine began to tremble, then whine.

 

“That couldn’t have been good,” Luke muttered, placing his hand on the side of the terminal. “I hope this thing didn’t just have a burnout... Artoo, what’s it telling you?”

 

“Sir, he says it’s having trouble opening the file.”

 

“What? But why would it-”

 

“Luke, here it is...”

 

He felt Callista’s arm on him again, and he looked back again at the screen.

 

“This can’t be right... What’s...”

 

“What’s the matter sir?”

 

Luke waved Threepio over. “It’s empty. There’s nothing here... Callista, are we sure we opened the right file?”

 

“Yes, Emin and Odelia Fals--that’s the one I clicked on.”

 

“Then why is there nothing here? Artoo, can you get us information on when this file was last updated?”

 

“Just three days ago, sir...”

 

Luke and Callista locked eyes immediately, and though Luke was sure they were both thinking the same thing, he couldn’t bring himself to say the thought out loud.”

 

“Can I help you with something?”

 

A small young woman--Luke guessed she couldn’t have been barely out of her teens--smiled shyly at them, her big violet eyes blinking beneath the thick vision-augmenters that kept sliding down the bridge of her nose.

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude,” she said. “But I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been here since the morning, and this isn’t exactly one of our faster terminals.”

 

Luke couldn’t help but chuckle.

 

“Maybe I could help you find what you’re looking for?”

 

Callista swung her chair around to face the young woman. “We’ve been searching for this file all day and finally found it, but it looks like it’s empty... Could you take a look and see if maybe we’re not looking in the right spot?”

 

“Of course.”

 

She sat down beside Callista, pausing to push up her vision-augmenters again, and pulled the keyboard towards her. “That’s odd,” she muttered, leaning in a bit closer to the screen and blinking a few times, as if she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. “You’re right, it’s completely empty.”

 

Luke felt Callista’s eyes on him. He met her gaze and didn’t say anything, though the pricks of awareness that traveled up his spine told him something was very wrong.”

 

“I’m... I’m sorry, folks... It looks like this file was accidentally wiped out.”

 

“Wiped out?” Luke could tell Callista was trying her best not to sound alarmed, but he could detect the slight edge in her voice. “How is that poss… does anyone have write access to these files?”

 

The girl shook her head. “No... All the files in Gerridion’s central database are supposed to be protected...” She bit her lip and continued to hit the enter screen, as if doing so would eventually make the file magically return sooner or later. “I don’t understand it--all the files are coded exactly so this sort of thing doesn’t happen... There must have been some sort of server hiccup.”

 

Luke swallowed hard. Every instinct in him told him that couldn’t have been what happened. “Do you keep back-ups of these files at all?”

 

She stopped punching the keyboard and turned to look up at Luke. “Well, we are supposed run a weekly back-up… but to be honest, we haven’t exactly been very religious about it lately. I think the latest we have may be from a few months ago, and I’d have to dig through several tapes to find it...”

 

Callista’s eyes went to Luke again, and he nodded back at her.

 

“Would you mind?” she asked the girl. “Please, I know it will be a hassle, but this is really important...”

 

The girl was quiet for a while, then looked back and forth between Luke and Callista. At last she nodded and stood from her seat. “If you don’t mind waiting-”

 

“No, we wouldn’t mind waiting at all... Thank you ...”

 

She smiled and disappeared into the small office behind the main counter. Luke didn’t keep track of how long she had been in there, but even when she finally emerged, he couldn’t let himself breathe a sigh of relief.

 

Not after he saw the look on her face.

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, shaking her head. “I-I don’t know how to explain it, but I can’t seem to be able to locate any of the back-ups for these files you’re interested in. I wish I could help you, but... I’m not sure what I can do...”

 

Luke felt the air in his lungs seep out, and every nerve ending in his body tingled when he walked out of the building. He caught Callista’s concerned expression as he approached her and the droids, and she met him halfway. Then, as if afraid the droids would hear her, she said softly, “What is it? Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

 

He nodded, and suddenly felt his heart rise to his throat.

 

Something was wrong--very wrong.

 

“Luke, talk to me... You’re scaring me...”

 

He pulled her closer. Something was telling him he needed to hold on to her as tightly as possible right now, though he couldn’t articulate why.

 

“Callista,” he whispered, feeling her ragged breath on his face. “Let’s go. We have to go now.”

 

“Why? What’s going to-”

 

He didn’t even have time to answer her before the unmistakable choke hold of the dark side suddenly jolted him. Without hesitation, he let go of Callista and spun 180 degrees, igniting his lightsaber and raising it in anticipation of striking. The next thing he became conscious of was the bright scarlet of the blade that clashed with his own.

 

And when he raised his eyes to look at his enemy, his blood ran cold.

 


	11. Chapter 11

“Callista, go!!”

 

The sound of Luke’s voice sent a shockwave of awareness ripping through Callista’s body, like lightning tearing into a tender sky. It actually felt like physical pain for an instant--electric currents ablaze beneath her skin--and it was all she could do to keep steady in the absence of the Force she still called out to by instinct, though she knew there would be no answer.

 

“Now, damn it! Don’t try to be a hero, just go!”

 

His back was to her when he cried out to her. He must have sensed her presence--must have known that she had stayed, despite somehow managing to get the droids to safety amid the disorientation of the last few seconds. She heard the desperation in his voice and knew he wanted her to be as far away from here as possible, but she was not going to run away now.

 

Not without him.

 

“I’m not leaving you here!”

 

Rath’s thin lips spread into a smile turned Callista’s blood into ice water. It was the same smile he had in that small, musty room on Jeor’s ark, and suddenly, she felt her windpipe tighten as it had then.

 

“Yes,” he rasped, “this is where you belong, isn’t Callista... And it scares you--it scares you to be drawn to me like this...”

 

She shook her head and stood her ground. He was not going to break her.

 

“You shouldn’t have come, my fallen Jedi...” He never  raised his eyes to her as he spoke, but she could feel the heat of his penetrating gaze nonetheless, just as she had on Chad. “You shouldn’t have come...”

 

“No, it’s you who should never have come, Rath,” Luke said. His voice was steady, like that of a warrior who would not--could not--be intimidated. His face had turned blank: no fear, no anger, no emotion. The face that only a true Jedi would wear in the heat of battle. They circled each other in their deadly dance, each eyeing the other man like a hunter eyeing his prey. Their lightsabers crashed towards each other, snarling and hissing in the electric air: the brilliant green of Luke’s blade clashing with the blood-red garnet of his enemy’s, energy sparks littering the sky and stinging Callista’s eyes.

 

She found herself instinctively reaching for the lightsaber at her hip, closing her hand around it, and wanting with everything inside her to ignite it. It would be so easy to strike him down, she thought. So easy to surrender to the impulse and unleash the darkness she had fought so hard to suppress all these years.

 

So easy to kill him.

_How can it be evil to fight darkness with darkness? How can it be evil to help the one you love?_

 

No. She would not let the dark side seduce her again. It had lied to her so many times before--over and over again--tricking her into believing it would be her salvation, and foolishly, she had listened to its false promises. But not again. She would not let it steal her hope again.

 

Her grip tightened on the cold steel. Oh, how she wanted to end this all now.

 

“This battle isn’t between you and me, Jedi,” Rath said to Luke, his eyes flicking towards Callista’s for a second before returning to Luke’s in the next instant. “You may think it is, but you’re wrong... Do you actually believe you can keep her from her destiny? You can not protect her forever...”

 

“No!!!”

 

Luke’s battle cry sounded just seconds before he axed at Rath with a fierce swing, nearly catching the Sith’s shoulder, only to be countered by his swift blade.

 

Rath smiled as their blades screeched upon contact, and his sunken eyes twitched with delight. “You _do_ make a worthy opponent,” he said, with the slightest hint of surprise in his voice. “I see the Jedi have managed to survive generations later.” He leaned in and added, “And it will make killing you all the more satisfying.”

_Son of a_...

 

Callista tore her lightsaber from her belt and brought it to life in its sun-yellow brilliance. Luke’s head turned immediately at its snap-hiss--Rath tried to take full advantage of his momentary distraction by taking aim at Luke’s torso, but Luke pivoted just in time to kick at Rath’s shin and knock him off-balance.

 

“No, Callista!” he screamed out to her, seeing what she had done, knowing what she was about to do.

 

But she could barely hear his voice through the blood that throbbed in her ears. _I’m sorry, Luke,_ she thought. _I’m so sorry_... She raised her blade to strike at a fallen Rath, but felt something snatch her lightsaber from her hands.

 

“I am not going to let you do this!” Luke screamed, and she saw her still-lit saber jump into his outstretched hand. With his own saber in his right hand, he made a clean swipe at Rath, who got to his feet with acrobatic grace and leapt out of the way of Luke’s blade.

 

The Sith grinned--a cool grin that nearly resembled a smirk--and Callista saw a new blade suddenly extend from the other end of his lightsaber. He twirled the weapon around with brash arrogance, just the right amount to taunt  his enemies.

 

Her hand cried out for her own lightsaber. Every Jedi instinct in her told her to fight; yet every fear in her told her not to trust the murmurs of darkness that followed.

_I can help you, Luke... Please let me help you_...

 

Luke showed no trace of panic. With command and authority, he countered each parry from Rath, weaving in and out of the Sith’s swings in well-timed rhythm. And as Callista watched him she ached to end the stalemate right then and there--to silence Rath once and for all.

_There is nothing holding you back... The power is yours to claim, if you would only stop resisting it... It is only the Force that you deny._

_Only the Force..._

 

Lies, all lies. She knew it, and yet she let it deceive her.

_The darkness is never the key to the light_... She chanted the words in her mind--a last gasp attempt at holding onto the Jedi inside her that was slowly being swallowed up by darkness.

_I am a Jedi... I am a Jedi..._

 

“Stop fighting it, Callista,” Rath said to her, his laugh nearly making her head burst. She tried to quiet her mind and keep him from probing her, but he only invaded her thoughts all the more. “I can feel it in you, and so can your Jedi... You are one of us, whether you want to be or not...”

 

She didn’t know how she was able to call her lightsaber back into her hand, but once it flew back to her, she wasted no time and pounced at Rath, slicing into him with a pent-up strength that had built up in the last few minutes and now exploded into a blind rage. She heard Luke scream--or maybe it was her own scream, but it was muted by the noise in her mind. She felt him pull her off, and as he did, she saw Rath double over in pain and collapse to the ground, his black cape clinging to his body, slick with blood that had soaked through the thick weave.

 

It was the last image she remembered before Luke pulled her to safety.

 

* * *

 

His blood was on her clothes. She could still smell its faint metallic scent, though it had long since dried and embedded itself in the once immaculate white linen of her blouse. Tiny, rust-colored specks, splattered all over her sleeves in a random design--the casual observer might have easily mistaken the constellation of droplets for dirt or residue from the ever-present cloud of dust in the streets, but even if people couldn’t tell the difference, it didn’t matter.

 

Callista knew the truth, and that was enough.

 

Her fingertips trembled as she traced the pattern of stains that were already turning brown in the heat of the low sun. Part of her wondered if the mere touch would corrupt her even further. She knew full well she had already been corrupted. There would be no wishing these stains away, no pretending they did not exist. It was his blood. His tainted blood, and it was on her, leaving its indelible mark, forever a glaring reminder of the horror of what she had done.

 

For a long time, she sat on the rocky ground as the sun dipped into the far-off horizon, giving way to the charcoal light of dusk. Slowly, the haze of the last few fevered moments began to clear, and the pieces began to come to her now: Luke’s scream, and her own animal-like wailing at the sight of Rath’s crumpled, blood-soaked cloak; the lethal hum of her weapon, and the blur of the next few seconds as she and Luke ran as fast and hard as they could--back to the abandoned canyon where they could escape to the safety of the ship, far away from the city and its townsfolk.

 

Far away from the pale, motionless body they had left for dead in the streets.

_How can it be evil to fight darkness with darkness? How can it be evil to help the one you love?_

 

She shuddered despite the warmth of early evening, and against her will, the tears came. She let them fall, letting them streak her face, mixing with the sweat from her struggle, stinging her mouth with their saltiness. Luke said nothing as she cried, and neither did she. She felt him beside her, sensing in the rhythm of his breathing that he wanted to reach out to her, but didn’t—because it wasn’t the right time or because there were no right words at that moment. After a while, she saw that his hand had been on her arm all this time, without her ever realizing it. She was surprised that she hadn’t refused his touch; and neither did she refuse it when she became aware of it. She had never needed someone as much as she did at that moment, and she was not going to push him away now.

 

She felt him stir beside her, and though she knew he was about to speak, she couldn’t bring herself to look up at him.

 

“Callista,” he said softly, “what happened out there?”

 

His voice was gentle, far gentler than she thought it would be, than it should have been. It surprised her. She had expected him to be angry--to be outraged. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he had unleashed all hell on her after what she had done. She had let him, and all who came before her, down.

 

Worst of all, she had let herself down.

 

Master Djinn would have disowned her. A mistake like this would have never been tolerated among her fellow Jedi, and she would have been ostracized by her peers--the only family she had known since leaving Chad.

 

But Luke... For some reason she couldn’t fathom, Luke hadn’t abandoned her like they would have. She had let him down, but he hadn’t left her side. Instead, he slid his hand over hers and held it without the slightest bit of judgment or reproach, holding it with the gentleness of a lover. Of one who sought to only reassure, not condemn.

 

The warmth of his hand radiated through her, and at the same time, making her ache with guilt. She didn’t deserve this--any of this! After what she had done, she didn’t deserve any of his sympathy, much less his love. She was tainted. How could he still love her when she was tainted?

 

The words came slowly, laced with uncertainty and tentativeness. With not knowing where--or how--they could go from here.

 

“I don’t... I don’t know,” she said, and it was the truth. She couldn’t explain it, not even to herself, and least of all to him. The silence grew between them, but he didn’t force her to go on; instead he continued to hold her hand while she tried to gather her thoughts. After a while she forced herself to look at him, despite knowing it would only hurt her to do so. The anguish on his face was all too obvious. Though he tried to hide it, it sliced into her nonetheless with the fierceness of a lightsaber blade, making her wonder if she could ever find a way to restore his faith in her--the faith she used to see so clearly in his eyes once upon a time. He didn’t dare say it out loud, but she knew it even without him saying so: she had gambled his trust away the moment she struck out at Rath in anger. 

 

He had felt the darkness in her, as she had felt in herself.

 

She swallowed hard and somehow found her voice. “This was a mistake... This whole thing was a mistake.. I should never have come back, Luke.”

 

His hold on her hand tightened, and panic washed over his face. “Callista-”

 

“No,” she said, “don’t...” She stumbled to her feet and started to walk away, but he took hold of her arm and spun her around to face him. Still, she couldn’t look in his eyes, even as he raised her chin up. “Luke... don’t, please...”

 

“Don’t what?” he said. When he spoke to her this way--in the way that made her feel as if she were the beginning and end of his universe--it always broke down her guard. “I can help you, if you just let me... It’s not too late. It’s never too late-”

 

She shook her head to stop him mid-sentence. “How can you still believe that?”

 

“Because I’ve seen it for myself, Callista. My father thought it was too late for him too--but it wasn’t. You can’t give up like he almost did...”

 

He caressed her cheek with thus thumb, and she brought her hand to his, pressing it closer to her face, then taking it away. “I can’t do this,” she managed to get out. “I thought I could, but... I don’t know how I ever could have thought I could just come back into your life after all this time... after everything... It’s too hard...”

 

She struggled in his arms, but he held her firm, the way he always used to. The way she could never forget.

 

And she hated herself for wanting him to keep holding her this way.

 

“You wanted to do the right thing... You risked everything to help us by coming back because you knew it was the right thing to do, and don’t you forget that... Hang on to that thought for me, please... You wanted to do the right thing, and you did-”

 

“The right thing?” she said. She looked at him through the blur of newly-formed tears and let out a bitter laugh that sent a chill even through her. “The right thing... Luke, I just killed a man. Force help me, I struck out in anger and killed a man! I betrayed everything for which the Jedi have stood for over a thousand generations--all in a matter of minutes!”

 

“It was in self-defense! You had to-”

 

“Stop it!”

 

It was happening already. Everything she had feared was slowly coming to pass, and she was going to be damned if she was going to take him down with her.

 

“Don’t you try to pretend, Luke,” she said. “Don’t you stand there and look the other way, because I saw it in your eyes... I saw your reaction. I _felt_ it. I gave into the dark side and there is no escaping that. There is no running away from the truth, Luke. Rath was right. You can’t keep protecting me...”

 

His grip on her tightened. “I am not going to stand by and watch you throw away all hope, either! You mean too much-”

 

“No... Please don’t do this...” She sighed and lowered her eyes. “You will do whatever you have to do to save yourself. Because Force help me, Luke, I am not going to be the cause of your downfall, do you understand? I did all this to keep you out of danger, not bring it upon you myself.”

 

He stared at her for a long time. His eyes were red with tears he held back, hard with the realization that as much however he hated to admit it, she was right.

 

She was right.

 

At last, he said softly, “Why won’t you let me help you?”

 

For a moment, she was tempted to let him.

 

“I still...”

 

She closed her eyes at his words. They both knew what he wanted to say, though he stopped before he could finish the sentence. And she felt him come closer.

 

“Whatever has gone on between us, you can still turn to me, Callista. If you don’t know that by now...”

 

His arms slid around her waist, the way they had so many times before, and though every instinct inside her told her to resist, she found herself bringing her arms up to embrace him, to pull him towards her. She shut her eyes even tighter and felt his hand under her chin again, lifting her face up to his.

 

Five long years of longing for him, dreaming about him, wanting all of the blasted barriers between them to vanish--and for that one brief moment, she had never wanted so much to give in. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she needed to pull away, before she lost herself completely.

 

Because if she didn’t do it now, she would never be able to.

 

“No,” she said, and she turned her head so his lips brushed her forehead instead of her mouth, even as her hands stayed on his arms.

 

Betraying her words.

 

“Luke, I... can’t... we can’t...”

 

This time he let go of her, and after a long time, the light of understanding began to flicker in his eyes.  “You’re leaving again... aren’t you? When this is all over, you’re going to leave again...”

 

“Luke-”

 

“Please, just... answer me, because I need to know.”

 

The hardness of his voice surprised her for an instant, although she understood it completely.

 

She nodded, not wanting to say the words aloud, as if doing so would make the reality inescapable. “Please don’t look at me that way...”

 

She hadn’t meant for the words to sound so weak, but they did anyway. Gathering what strength she had left, she looked him in the eyes. Part of her wished he could just hate her and be done with it--maybe then they could finally have closure and not have this lingering agony between them.

 

But he didn’t, and that made this hurt all the more.

 

“I never lied to you, Luke. I never pretended to-”

 

“No,” he said, starting to back away. “No, that’s right, you never pretended.” He took his eyes away from her, severing their lifeline. Though something inside her had expected him to say the words, it still hurt to hear them.

 

“If I led you to believe something different--if I gave you the wrong impression, then I’m sorry... I am... But this is the way things have to be. Nothing’s changed that...”

 

She couldn’t believe she had to explain this again. It almost killed her having to tell him the first time--why was he making her say this all over again?

 

“I love you, Luke,” she whispered, hoping the words would somehow soften the blow, but knowing nothing ever could. “I will always love you--please believe that. But if you love me you will not make me go through this again. Because I can not go through this again...”

 

She waited for him to look at her. When he did, she saw the tears in his eyes, and at last he nodded.


	12. Chapter 12

Beads of sweat glistened off Roug Dann’s broad face and trickled down from his nearly non-existent hairline, heading straight for his eyes, which, at the moment, were scrunched in deep concentration. He grunted--obviously distracted by the minor annoyance and more than a little frustrated with whatever he was preoccupied with--and wiped the perspiration off with his sleeve, but from the grimace that remained etched on his face, the action must not have done much good.

 

“Blast!” he growled. “No good piece of...” He brought down a fist hard on the countertop, and with the other fist, struck the sorry-looking ale dispenser that had been occupying him for the last few minutes. It looked as if it were a mere puff of air away from falling apart completely--if it could even last that long--but Roug didn’t seem to care. He continued to pound away at it liberally, as if doing so would somehow make it obey his command at long last. He swore some more under his breath--something in his native tongue that Callista couldn’t quite make out from the doorway, although she had a feeling she knew exactly what he was saying even without being able to know the exact words.

 

She felt Luke’s hand cup her shoulder, surprising her for a brief second, and her stomach fluttered at the feel of his breath on her cheek when he leaned in close to whisper in her ear.

 

“Is he alone?”

 

He wasn’t looking at her; instead his eyes were fixed ahead of them, as they had been for the last few minutes, watching for any passers-by that might happen to notice them standing just outside the otherwise well-hidden side entrance of Roug’s cantina.

 

At the moment, they could ill afford to take any unnecessary chances and get caught.

 

By now, Rath’s abandoned body would have been found in the back alley of the Hall of Records, and word would have undoubtedly spread rapidly throughout the town about the grisly discovery. Even though there had been no witnesses, Callista knew it wouldn’t take much for the townsfolk to piece together what must have happened after they left the scene late yesterday afternoon--which meant Luke and Callista would now be hunted fugitives.

 

As if the stakes had not been high enough.

 

Finding T’min Fals seemed more critical than ever now, and now they had to do so without getting captured in the process.

 

A nagging thought clawed at Callista. _And what if we’re already too late_... She squeezed her eyes shut and forced the thought out of her head. She was not about to let herself even entertain that possibility--not after everything they had already gone through to get to this point. And she was not about to say it out loud either, though she knew with certainty that Luke must have had the same thought too at some point.

 

She peeked inside the cantina once more. “He looks to be alone,” she said. “At least, I don’t see anybody else in there with him...” Certainly not the behemoth of a Tulderian, she thought, the one who had guarded the place the other night. He seemed nowhere to be found now, much to her relief. Perhaps his services were not needed yet at this early of an hour. Whatever the reason, she was sure grateful for that small miracle.

 

Roug had now completely disassembled the ale dispenser; its armor and guts were spread across the once bare countertop--a hodge-podge of screws, washers, and assorted bolts. Callista could tell from the steady stream of curses coming from his direction that he didn’t exactly have a firm grasp of what he was doing, and in spite of everything, she couldn’t resist the urge to let out a laugh.

 

“Well, he seems rather pre-occupied at the moment,” she said, biting a lip to halt her laughter before she turned beside her to Luke. “I’d say this would be the perfect opportunity to go in there and take him by surprise.”

 

“That’s the kind of positive thinking I like.”

 

She smiled and said, “Yes, I remembered you like a cheery girl.”

 

He returned her smile, and in his eyes she saw a flash of remembrance--of another time, another place. And he began to sing, “_Let’s everybody be happy_...”

 

“... _Let’s everybody be happy_...”

 

She laughed again, as the words of that silly old nursery song she had once sang to him started to come back to her, until the sound of Artoo’s insistent warble distracted her, and she reached a hand back to quiet him. “Shh... Easy, Artoo,” she whispered. “We don’t want to startle him...”

 

Threepio banged on the little astromech, and followed up with swift reprimand. “Now see what you’ve done, you little troublemaker,” he hissed. “I’m sorry, Mistress Callista, he gets nervous so easily-”

 

Luke brought his finger to his lips and covered the Threepio’s mouth with his other hand. Callista laughed softly at his attempts to calm the agitated protocol droid down, then turned her head towards the direction of the banging noises she heard coming from the inside.

 

“Now or never, Luke,” she said, gently tugging on his arm. “If we wait any longer, someone’s bound to show up. Or he might leave...”

 

He nodded, and she saw him glance one last time at the street that ran across the cantina, then turn to the droids. “You two will need to stay out here,” he said, in an almost fatherly tone that made Callista smile--she always did find it endearing that he treated them more like his own children than droids. “And remember, at the first sign of trouble-”

 

Threepio reassured him with a nod. “Don’t worry, Master Luke,” he said proudly. “We know what to do.”

 

Luke chuckled and exchanged amused looks with Callista. “I know you do,” he said, patting Threepio on the shoulder. “I trust you.” 

 

“Be careful, Master Luke, Mistress Callista.”

 

“You too.”

 

Callista stepped into the cantina first and Luke followed close behind. Not wanting to alert Roug to their presence one second sooner than necessary, they proceeded cautiously--and as quietly--as possible, making sure their boots would not make any giveaway taps on the uncarpeted floor. When they reached the counter at last, they pulled back the hoods from their Jedi cloaks with one slow, cautious move.

 

“Roug...”

 

The bar owner whipped around in their direction, sending a wrench crashing down on the mountain of bolts. For a few anxious heartbeats, Callista wasn’t sure how to read his reaction. It wasn’t fear, exactly--in fact, if she didn’t know any better, she would have guessed it was more surprise than anything else.

 

“Don’t you two know better than to arrive unannounced like that?” he finally said, letting out a somewhat embarrassed laugh as he reached once again for his discarded tool on the counter. Then, after a swift, almost comical double take, he looked them up and down--no doubt noticing their new attire, Callista thought. He gestured towards their robes and snickered. “What’s with the get-up?” he said “You two look like Jedi or something...”

 

From the corner of her eye she could see Luke remained unperturbed by the comment, even giving the other man a cool grin. This was far from the reaction either of them had expected from Roug, but she knew it would have been suicide to let him throw them off-balance, and so they played along.

Probably best to play this one by ear, she told herself.

 

She sat down at the stool and, following Luke’s cue, flashed him a smile. Years of training and practice had taught her to be astute with human behavior; she eyed him carefully as she spoke, trying to gather as many cues as she could from his body language, wondering how much he knew of what happened and when he would choose to say something.

 

In the absence of the Force, this was all she had left now.

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“The robes, little lady...” He reached across the counter and touched her sleeve to examine it up close, then released it and shook his head in laughter. “For crying out loud you look ridiculous,” he said. “It’s about a thousand degrees out there if you haven’t noticed, and you’re in those things! Crazy outlanders...” He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the broken dispenser. “So what’re you doing here this early, anyway? I’d offer you some of that Corellian ale you’re so fond of, but as you can see, it’s not exactly available right now.”

 

Callista continued to watch him work behind the counter. He seemed so carefree and jovial right now, but oddly enough, it made her all the more nervous. She looked beside her at Luke. Surely he too must have been wondering, why Roug seemed so at ease with them right now, and why the beleaguered bar owner had yet to mention any strange occurrences from the day before--after all, he seemed to be the very type who would delight in sharing such news with his patrons.

 

Luke didn’t say a word, but then, he didn’t have to. She had seen that look on his face before. She had seen him lower his eyes in that same deliberate manner, with his jaw clenched and his hands in fists. And she knew without him saying so that the same cold, dull ache she felt in her core right now throbbed within him too, as an uneasy realization began to set in.

 

They locked eyes, and Callista read the same thought in his.

 

Rath was not dead.

 

Slowly, she turned to the bar. “Roug, listen to me, this is very important...”

 

He turned around to look at her. “What?” he said. He didn’t look concerned at first--more curious than anything else--then slowly comprehension began to dawn on his face. “What’s going on with you two? You’ve been acting strange since you got here-”

 

“Roug, have you heard anything about something happening yesterday?”

 

He frowned. “Like what?”

 

The words felt like steel blades driving into Callista’s chest, confirming what she already knew, but didn’t want to believe.

 

She was aware of her opening her mouth to answer him, but somehow her voice sounded detached from her--as if someone else were saying the words. “Like a body that was found near the Hall of Records...”

 

“A body?” he said, his surprise and slight amusement all too evident. “You two have really overactive imaginations-”

 

“Are you saying no one has seen anything suspicious since yesterday?”

 

He leaned over the counter. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Luke. Hey, what is this, anyway? First you come in here asking me about some story from a thousand years ago, and now you’re going on and on about some body at the Hall of Records. If you ask me, I think you’ve both been out in the sun for too long.”

 

The same electricity that had seared under Callista’s skin moments before Rath’s attack sparked within her once again, her breath began to feel labored. She sensed Luke’s eyes on her.

 

They had to find T’min Fals now. They could not afford to wait any longer.

 

“Roug, we need your help.”

 

“I told you, Luke, I haven’t heard anything about a body-”

 

Luke shook his head. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

 

Roug made a motion to turn his back on them, but Luke caught his arm before he did. For a moment, Callista wondered if he was going to use the Jedi mind trick on Roug. Time froze for that instant, but at last she saw him release the other man’s arm and sit back down.

 

Roug’s adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Look, if this is about that thing you were snooping around about the other night, I already told you, I don’t have anything to tell you-”

 

“But you do know something... don’t you?” Callista did not break off her eye contact with him as she spoke. “You know about T’min Fals and all the stories surrounding him...”

 

“I don’t have to tell you a damn thing,” he said. “Who do you think you two are, anyway? You come into my cantina and expect me to open up to you-”

 

“We wouldn’t be asking you this if it weren’t so important...”

 

She followed him as he walked down to the other end of the counter. He refused to look at her at first, busying himself by randomly going through the scrap pile in front of him. But she touched his hand and he had no choice but to meet her gaze.

 

This was it, she thought. For all the marbles...

 

“There are people in danger,” she said softly. “If we don’t find out the truth about him--and others like him...” She swallowed hard, unable to let herself finish the thought. “There is so much at stake here.”

 

“You’ve got that right,” he said. “There _is_ a lot at stake--more than you know. You’re playing with fire here, kids. So why don’t you just turn around and go back to your comfortable little university and forget any of this ever existed-”

 

“You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” Luke reached a hand down to his belt and unhooked his lightsaber, laying it onto the counter before a stunned Roug. “This isn’t some archeological study,” he said. “We’re not here to do research on ancient legends, Roug. I think you know why we’re here. We’re here because we know Fals really existed, and he really returned here a thousand years ago to hide from the people hunting him down...”

 

“You’re... You’re Jedi...”

 

Luke nodded. “We never intended to mislead you. I’m sorry that it came to that. We just wanted to get the information as quickly and simply as possible, but things have... things got complicated pretty quick... We need your help. If you know something--anything--about where he is, or who his friends might have been-”

 

“Denora City.”

 

Silence blanketed the room for a few heartbeats.

 

“Denora City?”

 

The bar owner nodded, then slowly came from behind the counter to take a seat next to them. “People around here,” he said, “they don’t talk much about it. We’ve all heard the stories, from the time we were kids. There’s been a lot of them--they’ve probably all been exaggerated and it’s hard to know what’s real and what isn’t anymore... Some say he died, but that his spirit went on to haunt the townsfolk over there, some say he found an apprentice to pass on his evil to, and some say he even preserved himself somehow, can you believe it?”

 

He laughed wearily, as if relieved in some way for having finally unburdened himself with the truth. “The city’s all abandoned now. Has been for more generations than anyone can remember--probably not long after T’min Fals went there. But if there’s one thing that all of us grew up knowing about this, it’s that no one in their right mind would ever even think of going there. There’ve been some thrill seekers over the years who have gone there to try and bring back proof of the legend. Word is no one’s ever made it back.”

 

He got up again and walked back to the gutted shell of an ale dispenser. “That’s what they say, anyway,” he said, busy once again with the uncooperative machine. “But like I said, things have probably gotten exaggerated over the years...” He paused and looked up at them. “Look, I don’t know what’s out there. Maybe it’s all bunch of nonsense that someone dreamed up a long time ago. But you want some friendly advice? I don’t know that I’d take my chances there.” He shrugged. “I know you Jedi can take care of yourselves. I mean, I’ve heard about some of the things you’re capable of, but...”

 

Callista smiled at him--to reassure him, or to thank him, she wasn’t sure.

 

“Well anyway, now you know.”

 

“Thank you,” Luke said. “You don’t know how much this helps, Roug.” He gestured towards Callista and they both got up from their seats.

 

Roug’s voice called out to them from the bar just as they were about to walk out the door.

 

“Whatever this is that’s making you go there--it better be worth it,” he said.

 

They turned around to look at him once more, and he gave them a smile.

 

“May the Force be with you.”

*  *  *

 

Denora City turned out to be every bit the ghost town that Roug had told them it would be. As Luke had guided the _Vision_ down onto the rocky surface, Callista had peered out the cockpit window, and from that vantage point, she could see nothing that resembled the bustling clusters of structures and narrow streets that had made up Legori City. Even now, standing at the foot of the ramp, she still could not make out any outward signs of life in their surroundings.

 

It was as if time itself had forsaken this place.

 

The thin veil of dust began to clear, giving way to the rubble and dirt spread about their immediate vicinity--the only evidence that someone or something had been here once, a long time ago. In the distance, some kilometers away, Callista made out the shapes of still more ruins. Most of what had once been structures seemed to have long since succumbed to age and the torture of the elements, though there were still a few left standing, like a living testimony to the near-forgotten past. As she squinted at them, in the glare of the setting sun, she felt a strange mixture of excitement and hope.

 

_Please_… _let this all be over soon so we can finally get on with our lives_...

 

There was a chill in the air which took her by surprise, after the suffocating heat of Legori City. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, wondering in the back of her mind if she was shuddering because of the temperature or some other elusive sensation that had nagged her throughout their flight--but would run away from her each time she pressed to name it.

 

“Pretty desolate, isn’t it?”

 

She heard Luke come down the ramp and stop right beside her.

 

“Makes you wonder just how long it’s been like this,” she murmured, watching the play of rust-colored light as it danced on the heaps of rubble. She turned to him, knowing the same question that had been plaguing her must have been weighing on his, too at the same moment. “You think we’ve gotten here in time?”

 

He didn’t answer right away, as if listening for the answer in the cool evening breeze--or wherever it was from which the Force whispered to him.

 

She wished she could hear it too.

 

“He hasn’t been here yet,” he finally said.

 

She knew he was right.

 

And yet, the uneasy feeling inside of her would not go away. Neither did the unanswered questions.

 

“It doesn’t make sense, Luke,” she said. “He must have arrived at Gerridion before we did. Somebody had accessed those files at the archives--somebody had wiped them clean, and it had to have been him... If he’s known all this time where T’min Fals is, then... why hasn’t he freed him already?”

 

Luke hook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I wish I did, but... I just don’t know...”

 

He stepped off the plank onto the dirt ground, looking around him again. Callista wondered if, like her, he was looking for some sort of reassurance.

 

“Master Luke...”

 

The clanking of Threepio’s feet jolted Callista out of her reverie.

 

“Sir, Master Kyp has contacted you. I believe it is urgent.”

 

Callista’s heart pounded against her ribs as she and Luke exchanged a quick glance before heading back into the ship. This couldn’t be good, she thought, though she realized she had no real reason to believe it wasn’t.

 

That is, until she saw Kyp’s image form on the holopad. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days--nor done much of anything else from the looks of his unkempt, unwashed hair and the shadow of dark stubble that lined his usually youthful face.

 

He looked like hell.

 

“We’ve been trying to reach you both for the last two days,” he said, shifting slightly in his stance.

 

“We were staying in town,” Luke said. “I’m sorry, we should have tried to contact you earlier, but... our hands were full. ”

 

“Rath was here,” Callista said, finishing his thought.

 

“What?!”

 

“He was here. I-we fought him, but... he’s disappeared. We thought he had been killed, but he’s escaped again, and Force only knows where he’s gone next...”

 

Kyp shook his head without looking at her. Then he said, “Well, he won’t be coming here.”

 

“Why? What’s going on?” Callista said.

 

“There’s nothing here. There’s nothing where the other Jedi have gone either-”

 

Luke straightened and leaned in towards Kyp’s holo. “What do you mean there’s nothing?”

 

“I mean we came here for nothing, Master Luke,” he said. “If there were ever hiding places somewhere on these planets, then they’ve been blasted into oblivion by now, because we haven’t been able to find _anything_. There are no blocks of carbonite, no hidden chambers, no secret compartments--nothing...”

 

Luke looked down and let out a barely audible breath.

 

“None of us have been able to find any evidence of any hidden Sith,” Kyp said after some silence. “We’ve combed this galaxy from one end to the other, and come up empty-handed.” Though he didn’t look in her direction, Callista felt the sting of his unspoken accusation nonetheless, and what he said next did not surprise her. “I hate to say this, but... maybe this was all some big wild goose chase from the beginning. Maybe we’ve been following the wrong lead...”

_No_...

 

No, he was wrong, she thought. She knew it, with everything inside her. They _had _been on the right path all along, but she just couldn’t prove it. Just couldn’t prove it. She was all too aware that she had nothing but her instincts to go on--and no blasted credibility to speak of with any of Luke’s students.

 

As if she hadn’t alienated them enough.

 

She said nothing to Kyp, nor to Luke. She had learned long ago that she would have to pick her battles, and this, she thought, would not be one of them.

 

Kyp glanced at her, as if sensing her eyes on him. Even now, he couldn’t seem to look straight at her, quickly averting her gaze when she raised her eyes. “Some of the Jedi have already started to head back to Yavin,” he said, the slight edge in his voice no less evident than it was seconds before. “If these blasted Sith are out there somewhere--some place where we haven’t yet looked--then Force only knows how many of them Rath has been able to get to by now. We may have played right into his hands-”

 

Luke shook his head. “There’s something about this, Kyp,” he said. “I... I can’t explain what you and the others have seen, but... I know there’s something to this.” He turned beside him to Callista. “You feel it too, don’t you? That we’re on the right track?”

 

She felt the arrows of Kyp’s stare, could almost hear his thoughts.

_You’re only fooling yourself and everyone else around you... How long will you keep leading us down the wrong path?_

 

Finally, knowing that she was perhaps risking everything by relying on her intuition, she nodded.

 

“T’min Fals is still here, Kyp,” she said. “I can feel it.”

 

He looked at her as if he wanted to laugh out loud with disbelief. “And even if he is, what about the others? For all we know they could be out there already just biding their time and we’re all just sitting ducks. While we’ve been busy looking for them--and this was a helluva long shot in the first place--they could have already-”

 

“And if you’re right,” she cut him off sharply, “if that _is_ what’s happened, then I am not about to just stand by if I have even the slightest chance to keep one more from coming back. I am not going to let someone destroy everything you have all worked so hard to build.” She looked straight at him, daring him to keep looking at her. Solemnly, she said, “I gave my life once before to keep evil from winning. And I will do it again if I have to.”

 

He stared hard into her eyes, saying nothing. Finally she got up from the co-pilot’s seat and headed out of the ship, out into the fast approaching darkness of the long-forgotten city. She sank down to the ground and buried her head in her hands, feeling all of the emotion she had been fighting all this time to keep inside her now wash over her.

 

Luke came to her a few moments later.

 

“He was out of line,” he said. “I told him that, Callista... He’s sorry...” He laughed softly and added, “For what that’s worth.”

 

She smiled, her eyes still fixed in the distance. “Maybe he’s right,” she said, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “Who am I fooling, Luke? I’ve been going around, carrying on as if I’m still a Jedi--thinking that because I can run and jump and wield a lightsaber like a Jedi, I can still think like one too. Even without the Force...”

 

She paused, knowing that if she kept on speaking she would be unable to disguise the tell-tale waver in her voice. “But maybe,” she whispered, “maybe I’ve just been deluding myself all this time...”

 

“You don’t really think that, do you?”

 

She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she bit her lips to keep them at bay. She had let him in on her grief before, but she was not going to cry now. Not  in front of him.

 

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think I just wanted so badly to prove I could do this that I almost convinced myself I could...”

 

He tilted her chin towards him. “Then remember what it felt to believe that,” he said. “Remember it and hold on to that with everything you’ve got. Because once you lose hope, Callie, then there’s little point in any of this anymore.”

 

“Luke-”

 

He shook his head to interrupt her. “Kyp and the others--maybe they don’t trust what you’re sensing, but _I_ do. I believe you.”

 

“Believing me isn’t going to make it any of this any true, Luke.”

 

“Doubting yourself won’t make it wrong, either.” He sighed and replaced his hand on his knees. “This is all we’ve got,” he said. “And I need you with me. So are you with me?”

 

She looked up at him, wondering why or how it could be that he had so much faith in her. What was it that was making him take such a big risk with her?

 

And if he was willing to take it, then who was she to hold them back.

 

“You bet.” She gave him a grateful smile and said, “You’ve never called me that before, you know.”

 

“What?”

 

“Callie,” she said. “You’ve never called me Callie before.”

 

He got to his feet and let out his flustered, boyish laugh, suddenly made aware of something he had probably said without much thought. “Haven’t I?”

 

She shook her head and smiled.

 

“After you left...” There was a noticeable pause after he said the words, as if he suddenly realized how they sounded. “I would dream about you, and... that’s what I would call you. Callie. I remembered that it was your nickname... It fits you well.”

 

It was a name that those who had loved her had called her. Her father. Uncle Claine. Even miserable Uncle Dro.

 

And Geith.

 

It seemed only fitting that Luke would call her that too.

 

“You would dream of me?”

 

“Every night.”

 

“After the way I hurt you,” she said softly, “I’m surprised you would... that you’d even want to remember me. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had found someone else, Luke...”

 

He stepped in closer towards her, but stopped short of touching her.

 

“There could never be anybody else.”

 

She smiled at him. “What was it they would call you?” she said. “The galaxy’s most eligible bachelor?”

 

“Ah yes, that,” he said, laughing. “Personally I could have lived with just plain ‘Jedi Master’ as my title.”

 

“Well, I’m sure there must have been many women who could have...” In her mind, she finished the sentence, _taken my place_. But even in jest she could not bring herself to say it. “There must have been others-”

 

“There weren’t.”

 

Part of her was surprised at his answer.

 

“Nor for me.”

 

“Do you actually believe for one moment,” he whispered, moving even closer to her, “that someone could have ever replaced you?” 

 

“I didn’t know what to believe, Luke.”

 

Slowly, as if afraid she would flinch from his touch, he brought his hand to her face and gently lifted her chin up. “Believe this,” he said, “It was always you. Nobody else ever stood a chance--because they weren’t you...”

 

Relief flooded through her--relief that she had meant something to him after all, that she had been as vivid a memory for him as he had been for her.

 

That despite everything, he had not forgotten what they had been to each other, though their time together had been all-too brief.

 

“But you left, Callie. You ran away and gave up on us...”

 

The words came unexpectedly, like the snap of lightning through an unsuspecting sky. There was no way Callista could have prepared herself for what he said. She stepped back from him, disbelieving, like a wounded animal that hadn’t seen the ambush coming.

 

She swallowed hard, and the words cut into her as she spoke them. “That is not fair, Luke,” she said, hearing her own voice crack with a rawness she felt in her skin, in her bones.

 

There was immediate remorse in his eyes--he too must have been taken by surprise by the words that had come out of his mouth--but she couldn’t bear to look at him at that moment and turned away from him.

 

“I didn’t mean that, I...”

 

It took every ounce of her strength not to turn back and face him.

 

“You are the last person in this universe I would ever want to hurt, Callista--you have to know that... I’m so sorry-”

 

“I’m sorry too, Luke,” she whispered, her back still to him. She knew that if she looked at him now she would lose all sight of what she had sacrificed up till now. “I’ve had many regrets in my life. And hurting you was the biggest one I’ve ever had.”

 

She felt his hand on her shoulder, and reluctantly, she turned around to face him.

 

“I thought you understood,” she said. “All this time... I thought you had understood...”

 

“I did,” he said softly. “I... really thought I did...”

 

But the wound had run too deep. Far deeper than either of them had ever thought.

 

He stood still for a moment, and she couldn’t help but wonder if at this moment he was thinking of their last good-bye on Nam Chorios--the simple gesture he had given her by raising his hand up to her, and the peace that had come with the knowledge that they were doing what they had to do. Then at last, he let out a heavy exhale, as if along with it, he was releasing the truth that he had probably been denying for years.

 

“Maybe I wanted to be angry at you for leaving,” he said. “Maybe I just didn’t want to face the possibility that... I had pushed you away. That deep down, you blamed me for all of this.”

 

Inside she cringed, and the sudden memory of those careless words she had spoken six years ago--said in a fog of grief and despair--came to her, stinging all the still-fresh wounds all over again.

 

“Is that what you thought?” she said. “Is that what you’ve thought all this time?” She placed a hand on his arm. “Luke, what I said to you... that morning, after we found out I’d lost my powers, I was so lost... I was lost and confused, and I said so many things I wish I could take back-”

 

“I pushed you so hard to come with me,” he said softly. “I wanted to save you from the _Eye_ at any cost... I’m the one that did this to you. I couldn’t let you go and because of my selfishness, you lost a part of you that I can’t ever give back to you--no matter how much I want to.”

 

“Don’t you do that, Luke,” she said. “This was _my_ choice. It was my choice to come back and I don’t blame you for any of this. Cray knew what it had been like to love someone with your whole being--and to want to defy the universe to be with that person. She gave me a gift that I could never have refused. Even if I had known this would happen.”

 

He opened his mouth to say something, but she placed a finger on his lips to stop him.

 

“I’ve asked myself million times over the last six years if I would have done it over again, had I known what it would cost. And the answer is yes. Every time. I wanted a life with you. I wanted to stay with you, more than you’ll ever know, but... I was scared...”

 

She broke free from his hold, realizing that with each moment her resolve was crumbling away.

 

“Damn it, I’m still scared!” she said, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “How much would both of us have been willing to risk to be together, Luke? With the dark side taunting us?”

 

She wanted him to give her an answer. She ached to hear him say she was wrong. But his silence told her that he didn’t have one.

_Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny_...

 

“You dreamed about what would happen, Luke. Can you swear to me that it won’t come to pass?”

 

He was silent for a long time. She felt his hand brush away her hair, his lips on her forehead.

 

“I love you,” he said at last. “I can’t give you the guarantee that you want--that you need... But I can love you.”

 

He laid his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t shrug them away, but instead let him bring her face up to his as he lowered his head and kissed her lips. “Callie,” he whispered, a silent plea for her not to pull away from him now.

 

She kissed him back.


	13. Chapter 13

He watched her sleep until morning came. At different times during the night, he drifted off into sleep as well, always unwillingly, and when he did, the many images and sensations of another night like this six years ago would wash over him: the memory of what it had been to feel her arms around him, the warmth of her body at his side, the rising and sinking of her flesh as she drew each breath.

 

The feeling of completeness that he had never known until she came into his life--nor felt again after she had gone.

 

He had wanted to stay awake as long as he physically could, if for nothing else than to savor the moment that he was already wishing hadn’t ended so soon. While she slept she had he had held her close, letting her cling to him as she had on the _Eye_, brushing away the soft curls that would fall across her face from time to time, committing every detail of this moment to his memory.

He knew it would be all he would have left of it once it had passed.

 

She was still sleeping when he slipped outside of the _Vision_ at the breaking dawn. In the distance, the sun was slowly emerging, spreading its amber glow across the rubble and ruins of Denora City. He watched it arrive with a heavy heart; with the coming of the morning also came the difficult knowledge that had always been there, but he hadn’t wanted to accept until he had no other choice but to do so. There would be no running away from it now. It was finally time to face what lay ahead of him.

 

What lay ahead for both of them.

 

Last night was not going to change the way things had to be. He knew that. Perhaps it had been their own elaborate way of saying good-bye to each other, of seeking the closure for which they had both longed so desperately all this time. But however either of them would choose to remember this in the years to come, he knew one thing for certain.

 

He would never regret that it happened.

 

The sound of crisp, well-timed metal footsteps, accompanied by the faint mechanical whir of Artoo’s wheels, told Luke he was no longer alone. With a conscious effort, he pushed these thoughts far, far back--locked them away in that part of him he had created a long time ago, the part that had held all the pain of adulthood he’d had to put aside over the years to survive. He took one last, long gaze at the rising sun and cleared his throat before facing Threepio and Artoo. Both of them had an uncanny ability to sense when something was wrong with him--it was downright impressive for droids--but the last thing he wanted at that moment was to have to articulate exactly what was on his mind.

 

In truth, it was far too complicated for even him to understand completely, and he doubted that either of his well-meaning droids would be able to sort it out any better than he could.

 

“There you are, Master Luke!”

 

He couldn’t help but smile as he turned to face them. “Here I am...”

 

He started to walk back towards the ship to meet them halfway, and was suddenly greeted with Artoo’s chorus of unintelligible squawks and whistles. The outburst caught Luke somewhat off-guard; he looked up at Threepio for help.

 

The little astromech seemed mighty eager to tell him something.

 

“I’m getting to that,” Threepio snapped. “Stop being so impatient, you bucket of bolts!” He turned his attention back to Luke. “Sir...”

 

Luke bit his lip to keep from smiling. “What’s got you both so excited?”

 

“Sir, the ship’s sensors discovered an unusual energy disturbance in the vicinity just now. It seems there is a vehicle nearby, and the computer has detected a life form on board--perhaps there is even more than one, Master Luke.”

 

Luke felt pricks of awareness begin to tingle at the back of his neck. His mouth was dry when he spoke. “What kind of a vehicle?”

 

“The computer classified it as a ground vehicle, sir. It doesn’t appear to be a ship of any kind.”

 

“They can’t be coming from very far then,” Luke said, not really sure where he was going with this, but simply allowing his instincts to guide him. After a pause, he continued cautiously. “Do we know if whoever this is could be human?”

 

“Yes, sir, the life form--or life forms--is human or humanoid.”

 

Luke took a deep breath and scanned his surroundings. Flat land stretched out ahead of him on all sides, punctuated by the rubble and other structures in the distance that stood in varying degrees of decay and ruin. He could see no movement with neither his naked eye nor with his Force-enhanced vision, but of course, he also knew that did not mean there was nothing to see.

 

Well, if someone were going to show up all of the sudden, he thought, then at least they’d able to see them coming.

 

A slight breeze blew from the north, sending a sudden chill through Luke’s bones. The Force was trying to tell him something.

 

“How far away are they, Threepio?”

 

“At the moment, the speeder is approximately twenty-three kilometers from here, and at the rate it is traveling, sir... I’m afraid it won’t be too much longer before it arrives...”

 

Luke swallowed hard and nodded without saying anything. His eye caught movement at the top of the ship’s gangway, and when he looked up, he saw Callista standing at the doorway, leaning her shoulder against the frame. He didn’t know how long she had been standing there, but she must have been awake for some time now because she was already dressed.

 

She was wearing the faded blue mechanic’s jumpsuit she had worn just after they had been rescued off the _Eye_, the one that was several sizes too big for her lanky frame and hung loose on her shoulders and waist though she had already laced it up as tightly as she could.

It was what she had been wearing when she discovered that the Force had left her.

 

He had often wondered why she had kept it, especially when so many anguished memories had been associated with it. But he never did ask her back then, nor did he particularly want to do so at that moment.

 

For a while they simply looked at each other in silence--as if time had actually stood still for a few heartbeats. Luke knew that neither of them wanted to be the one to say the first word, for doing so would mean that last night had finally come and gone, and they would no longer be able to turn away from the reality of what they both knew had to come next.

 

She came down the ramp slowly as Threepio and Artoo made their way back into the ship. Her eyes never left his as she walked down, just as his never left hers.

 

“It’s him,” she said softly, when she had finally reached him. “It’s Rath, isn’t it?”

 

He inched just a bit closer to her, as if it were the most natural action in the world.

 

“We can’t be sure,” he said. “It would make sense that it’s him, but...”

 

He saw her trying to read his face.

 

“But... what?”

 

He shook his head as a fleeting sensation came and left him. “There’s something, all right... I’m feeling something, but it’s... not what I felt before when he was near...” He sighed in frustration and looked past her at the buildings that once stood tall centuries ago. It was as if he was expecting for something to jump out from the shadows. “Then again,” he said, with a somewhat chagrined laugh, “I’ve been a bit distracted as of late.”

 

He caught the smallest of smiles on her face before she took her eyes off him.

 

“I suppose we’re both guilty of that,” she said. She looked up at him again after a while. He could tell she wanted to say something--probably what he too wanted to tell her at that moment--but just like him, she probably couldn’t think of the right words with which to say it.

 

“Callista, I-”

 

“Luke-”

 

They laughed shakily, both stopping to let the other speak, but he gestured for her to continue.

 

“I just… I just wanted you to know that...”

 

He saw her searching his eyes. Was she afraid he would turn against her now? After what he had said in the heat of anger and hurt last night?

_I understand, Callie... I  understand..._

 

She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments and took a deep, as though to compose herself. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was unwavering.

 

“Luke, I need to you know that... the last thing I would ever do is hurt you.”

 

“I do,” he said. “I do know that, and... you don’t have to explain anything...”

 

She smiled. His heart leapt against his ribcage.

 

“Well… would you mind explaining it to me?”

 

He laughed softly, remembering her saying the same words to him a long time ago, when the entire universe as she knew it was fast slipping away.

 

“We don’t have to have at all figured out right now,” he said. “Time is long... and things will always fall into place the way they’re meant to... For now, that’s all we need to know.”

 

She was silent for a long time, then at last she said, “I love you, Luke... I-”

 

Another chill came to him--a little stronger this time--ripping through him without warning, and he felt his breath grow shallow.

 

“Luke, what is it?”

 

“Someone’s... here...”

 

He saw a light glinting in the distance, and instinctively he reached for his lightsaber and ignited it.

 

“Go inside the ship...”

 

“No, I am not going to leave you out here!”

_Blast, it Callie... Don’t fight me on this one now, please..._

 

He didn’t have time to argue with her. The speeder was fast approaching them, and once it was here they would have only a few seconds to react. He had to get her inside somehow.

 

Threepio once again emerged from the ship. “Master Luke, the sensors detect a speeder approaching-”

 

“I see it!” Luke shouted back. “Go back inside with Artoo!” From the corner of his eye, he saw that Callista was still standing beside him, and he knew there would be no convincing her to move. “Callie, please...”

 

As if she could read his unspoken thought, she said, “I am not going to give in to the dark side,” she whispered. “Not this time, I promise. But I will not leave you out here...”

 

He believed her, but a part of him did not want to take any unnecessary chances, either. “Cal-”

 

Light blinked before him again, reflecting off the metal body of the speeder. Luke could make out the shape of the person driving it, could see the passenger in the seat next to him, and at once he lowered his lightsaber and deactivated it.

 

The speeder reached them and came to a halt near the ship, its driver a young man with long dark hair that he had pulled back, wearing green fatigues. His companion, a young woman who was hardly dressed appropriately in a cropped shirt that exposed her belly, a skirt that came to a stop at the top of her thighs, and boots with a 4-inch heel, looked as though she wanted to be anywhere but this place. She squinted in the bright light and brought her hand up to her eyes to shield it.

 

Luke hooked his lightsaber back to his belt, relieved for the moment, if cautiously so, and approached the man as he hopped out of the vehicle.

 

“You two here to check out the stiff, too?”

 

Luke coolly arched an eyebrow. “The stiff?”

 

The young man laughed and nodded towards the broken-down buildings in the distance. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? The Legend, right?”

 

“You mean T’min Fals?”

 

“What else would I mean?” He reached inside the speeder to pull out a large duffel bag and slipped the straps over his shoulder. “Wow, I didn’t think there’s be a crowd here, though.” He turned to the young woman, who was now leaning back against the speeder, looking utterly bored. “See, babe, I told you I wasn’t the only one interested in this sort of thing.”

 

She rolled her eyes, then cast a somewhat skeptical eye at Luke and Callista.

 

“Are you part of the cult then, too?”

 

Callista blinked back at her and glanced at Luke before replying. “Cult?”

 

The young man smirked. “Don’t listen to her. There’s a group of us who like to learn as much as we can about the Legend of T’min Fals as a hobby. She thinks we’re obsessed with it.” He came forward and offered his hand. “I’m Nav. This is Sana, my girlfriend.”

 

“I’m Callista. This is Luke.”

 

“Is this your first time here?” Nav said, his voice high and animated. Clearly he was excited to be there. “It’s mine. My friends have all been here before, of course. They’ve been giving me a hard time for never even having made the trip.”

 

Luke was starting to find the enthusiastic young man quite entertaining. “First timers, too,” he said. “We’ve always wanted to see it up close.”

 

Nav nodded.

 

“So… you know where it is, then?” Callista said. “Luke and I… we tried researching all of the old sources, but it’s hard to pinpoint it exactly.”

 

“Are you serious?” Nav said. “I don’t know where you two have been looking, but if you’re half as serious as we T’min Fals scholars are, you’d’ve known where to go.”

 

Luke started to open his mouth, but before he could say anything, Nav had already cut him off.

 

“C’mon,” the young man said, shrugging the straps of his duffel bag up again to adjust them. “You’re obviously amateurs. You’d better follow me.”

 

Callista threw a questioning glance at Luke. He gave her a small nod, letting her know they could trust him. The kid was harmless, that much was certain, but Luke still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right--a hazy and amorphous suspicion that hadn’t quite taken form yet.

 

“Well, are you coming or not?” Nav said, turning his head back to look at them.

 

“Right behind you.”

 

Beside him, Callista whispered, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Luke.”

 

“So do I.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t get it… This is the right place. It’s supposed to be _here._”

 

Nav stared at the niche in the wall of rock before them, as though looking at it long enough would conjure up the image he was expecting to see. They had followed his carefully laid out map up to this point, making note of every distinctive landmark that Nav’s extensive research indicated they were supposed to encounter along the way: the crescent shaped canyon about two kilomters from where they began walking; the steep cliff that led up the top-most shelf of the canyon; the dome of rock at the very peak, where a narrow opening—barely wide enough to fit an average sized person—led to a hidden cave where the supposed frozen body of T’min Fals had stayed undisturbed for centuries.

 

Except it wasn’t there.

 

“Look,” Nav said, raising the power on his lamp to maximum and drawing out a small, portable holopad, from which several images suddenly sprang forth. Luke inched closer to see that they were all renderings of the cave. “See there? Where this recess in the rock is? My buddies took this holo just last month. And he’s _right there_.”

 

Nav zoomed in on the holo projection, and Luke felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw the magnified image of the body etched out in the carbonite, the  eyes squeezed shut, teeth grit, hands up near the face, as though to shield himself when the realization of what was about to happen must have dawned in him at last.

 

This was not someone who went in quietly.

 

“I told you they faked the holo,” Sana said, her sneer evident even in her voice. “I mean… how hard could it be?”

 

“They wouldn’t do that!” Nav shot back. “This was real! I just… don’t get it…”

 

Luke was only half-listening to their bickering. His eye caught fragments on the ground, near the carving in the wall. With Nav and Sana going full tilt now, he was able to slip away unnoticed to have a closer look. He crouched down low, picking up one of the fragments to examine it. It was the color of graphite—rough and jagged against the pad of his thumb—and smelled like… smoke.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder in the next instant.

 

“What is it?”

 

He shook his head. “Not sure.”

 

It wasn’t entirely true; he had a gnawing suspicion what it could be, but he didn’t want to voice it until he had some sort of firm confirmation.

 

“Keep an eye on those two, will you?” he said. “Make sure they don’t look over here. I just… want to run a quick scan.”

 

Even in the dim light, he could see the concern etched on Callista’s face. She didn’t seem to want to move from her spot, but at last, nodded and walked to where Nav and Sana were. By now, the two had degenerated into a screaming match.

 

“You just don’t like the fact that I have a hobby and you don’t-”

 

“Hobby, is that what you call it? You pay more attention to your stupid archives than you do to me-”

 

“Maybe you two could just… cool it for a second…”

 

Luke felt terrible that he’d left the job of refereeing to Callista, but it had to be done; he’d have to make it up to her later.

 

The scanner beeped in his hand, and he used the Force to enhance his vision to get a better read. The small trickle of uneasiness that had been running through his veins had transformed into a  flowing gush now, and his blood throbbed in his ears when he caught the words that ran across the screen.

 

Material: Carbonite

99.347% accuracy

 

He straightened and slipped the scanner back into his backpack. Callista looked back at him just as he was making his way back into the lover’s quarrel, their eyes locking for that instant. He knew she could sense that something was wrong, but didn’t get a chance to speak.

 

“I’m out of here!”

 

Sana was squeezing her way through the gap in the rocks. Nav chased after her, calling out, “Wait! Where do you think you’re going?”

 

Luke could still hear them arguing, then seconds later, Nav peered inside, with an apologetic look on his face.

 

“Um… hey, I hate to run out on you guys, but… she’s kind of upset…”

 

Luke gave him a nod. “Good luck.”

 

“I’m gonna need it,” Nav said, rolling his eyes. “Maybe we’ll catch you two back in the city. If she doesn’t kill me before then, anyway.” He groaned and disappeared through the gap.

 

Callista watched him with her arms folded, then looked back at Luke.

 

“You found something,” she said. “Didn’t you?”

 

“He was right. That holo wasn’t fake. The carbonite was here, all right, but... it’s been blasted into bits.”

 

“What??”

 

He took out the scanner and handed it to her. “According to that,” he said, “it was destroyed not too long ago.”

 

She read it, eyes widening, then slowly, she looked up to meet his gaze once again.

 

“Yesterday.”

 

He nodded.

 

“But who could’ve… You don’t think it was one of those kids, do you? Nav’s buddies?”

 

“Doesn’t seem likely,” he said. “You saw him—he looked like he was making some sort of holy pilgrimage or something. I can’t see any one of those kids wanting to destroy the very thing they’ve been fantasizing about seeing for years…”

 

“Then… who?”

 

Luke swallowed hard. “I think we both know who it could be.”

 

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, that’s not… why would he? Why come all this way to bring T’min Fals back to life if he were just going to-”

 

She stopped abruptly, and he watched the comprehension slowly dawn in her eyes.

 

“He wasn’t coming here to bring him back to life… was he?”

 

Luke shook his head. The dread he’d felt earlier as a tenuous whisper was screaming in his head now, in his ears, along with the relentless pounding of his heartbeat.

 

“I think… he changed his plan along the way,” he said. “He decided to destroy them instead…”

 

“There can only be two of them… a master and an apprentice…”

 

In the semi-darkness, he could see the glisten of newly formed tears in her eyes, could hear the ragged sound of her breath.

 

“He’s found a new apprentice,” she said, her voice barely a whisper now. “Me.”

 

Luke felt the oxygen seep out of his lungs in the next moment, as a voice emerged from behind him.

 

“Very good… very good, Callista, you figured me out…”

 

Luke whirled around, igniting his lightsaber on instinct, and its emerald blaze cast light on the face of Darth Rath, who stood before them, laughing. Not a cackle, like the Emperor’s, but a low, teasing laugh that somehow seemed a thousand times more maddening.

 

And chilling.

 

“Don’t take another step-”

 

“Or what? You’ll what, Jedi? Slice me in two?”

 

Rath flicked open his robes to reveal a jagged scar on his belly. “Callista here already tried to do that, remember? Didn’t work too well.”

 

“Luke-”

 

Beside him, he could hear Callista shift. Even without looking at her, he knew that her hand had already reached for her own lightsaber, her finger on its switch.

 

“Don’t… Callista, just…”

 

“Luke, I can-”

 

“Listen to her, Jedi… Silencing her isn’t going to change anything-”

 

“Shut up!!”

 

Rath’s thin lips curled into a smile. His eyes flicked towards Callista, and just as the Sith made the motion to call his lightsaber into his hand, Luke heard Callista’s ignite.

 

_No… Callie, no…_

 

He had no choice. He felt a burst of energy erupt within her, knew that he had only a fraction of a second before she crossed the line she was straddling at that moment. He heard her take a breath, felt her move closer, readying her pounce. Shadow and light swirled inside her; he could feel the conflict, feel the probe of darkness, even as he fought to keep it at bay.

 

It was now or never.

 

With one quick motion, he reached for the stungun at his hip and pivoted around, pulling the trigger before she could even register his movement. And when she fell to the ground, he bit back the tears that surfaced.

 

_Forgive me, Callie... I love you..._

 

Rath’s laughter grew to a crescendo, burning in his ears.


	14. Chapter 14

_Callie, forgive me…_

 

Callista tried to groan, but couldn’t. And only when she tried to move—tried to feel her legs, her toes, her fingers, tried to pry open her eyelids—did she discover that she couldn’t do that either.

 

But she could feel her head. Boy, could she feel that. It pounded and throbbed, pressing outwards against the tight confines of her cranium like a caged animal, hitting her right between the eyes, assaulting her temples, and sending sparks of pain down the column of her neck. For a single, disorienting second, she thought she was back on board Jeor’s ark, floating on the algic current. Hadn’t her head hurt like this on there as well?

 

_Forgive me…_

 

No… she wasn’t on Chad. She was somewhere else…

 

_Forgive me, Callie… I love you…_

 

The numbness in her body was beginning to give way to a dull ache all over, but her limbs still felt heavy and lifeless. Still enclosed in darkness, she could hear the rumble of voices in the distance—the cold, deep laughter of a madman and another voice… a familiar one…

 

_I love you…_

 

Luke?

 

She would have leapt up to her feet in that instant, were she not paralyzed, and suddenly the realization hit her with the force of a herd of wystoh swarming her: she’d been stunned.

 

She should have been angry at him—perhaps part of her was, but the other part of her, the greater part, the one that had stubbornly clung to the ways of the Jedi even in the absence of the Force, knew he had done the right thing. He had felt the rise of darkness in her in the moment before he knocked her unconscious; she had very nearly raised her blade and was a hairsbreadth of a second away from striking. And she didn’t have the conceit of self-defense to hide behind.__

 

She had meant to attack.

 

_Forgive me, Luke…_

 

She tried to swallow, but her throat felt tight and swollen. Tears sat trapped behind her shut eyes, and she strained to listen to the voices, tried to make sense of them, even as her brain continued to swell and press against the walls of her skull.

 

“Did you really think that would do the trick, Jedi? You really think that stunning her for a few minutes is going to make a difference?”

 

“A few minutes is all I need,” Luke said.

 

His voice was calm but forceful, the measured cadence of a Jedi master. The low hum of his lightsaber buzzed in Callista’s head.

 

“Better be careful,” taunted Rath. “Arrogance leads to the dark side. Then again, Jedi have always been masters of hypocrisy, haven’t they?”

 

“You don’t know anything about being a true Jedi. And you don’t know the first thing about me, Rath. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

 

The Sith responded with a laugh. “Full of ourselves, aren’t we?” he said. “All right then, Jedi, let’s see what you’re made of.”

 

She heard the crackle of blades clashing together in the next moment, and she flinched inwardly at the sound, though her body remained maddeningly motionless. A tingle was beginning to return to her fingers. She tried to move them, but could manage no more than a solitary twitch.

 

“You can’t protect her forever,” Rath said. There was almost a glee in his provoking, and Callista prayed that Luke would be able to resist it. “How much longer before she begins to resent you for it?”

 

_No… No, Luke, don’t listen to him…_

 

“You’re wrong-”

 

“Am I?”

 

Another frightening crash of blades, a staccato pulsing of hisses as they swung and parried and circled each other. She heard sparks bounce off the walls of the cave and Luke’s breath growing heavier, more labored. It was on the edge of a growl.

 

Rath’s taunts were getting to him.

 

“She’s not a child. And you’re not her master-”

 

“And neither are you!!”

 

Luke released a primal scream. She heard the splattering of rocks as they scattered to the ground; Luke must have swung his blade at Rath, but caught the wall behind him instead.

 

The tingling gave way to sensation. She could almost feel her arms now, her legs. Her eyelids still felt heavy, but at least they were beginning to obey her command. She forced them open, her vision still blurred. Indistinguishable shapes shifted in front of her, in varying degrees of black and gray.

 

“You feel it in her, too, the darkness,” Rath said, his voice alive with delight. “You wouldn’t be fighting me now if you didn’t…”

 

“She’s a Jedi… She will never turn against the light…”

 

“If you truly believed that,” Rath said with a hint of a laugh, “you would never have stunned her.”

 

“NOOO!!!”

 

She heard Luke’s blade strike Rath’s, the force of it knocking the Sith back against the wall. She heard another terrifying laugh, then a loud crack. Followed by another. And then another, until the entire cave shudder with the sound of them.

 

And then she felt the rumble of the ground beneath their feet.

 

_Force help us…_

 

Her eyes had just about adjusted now. She could see their figures, though their edges were still dull with a lingering blur. Rath’s hand was raised, pointing at the low ceiling. The stalactites were beginning to move, she realized to her horror.

 

All around them, she could hear the snapping of crackling rock, could see the cracks spread along the walls like spider webs. Luke’s own hands were raised, attempting to seal the cracks and stop them from spreading. Fragments rained down on them. Luke was directing their motion away from her and himself, dodging and weaving the stalactites that Rath had broken loose and was flinging in Luke’s direction.

 

The Sith was fully focused on Luke now, so much so that he didn’t so much as cast a glance in her direction as she dug her elbow into the ground to come to sitting. Her head was still pounding, but with each breath, she was able to tolerate its aching. Her lightsaber lay across from her, wedged between two rocks; it must have been knocked out of her hand when she fell to the ground. She reached out in vain, trying to call it into her hand, knowing deep down it wouldn’t come, but wanting to make the attempt.

 

It was then that he noticed her.

 

“The dark side beckons, doesn’t it?” Rath hissed.

 

Luke whirled around, his eyes widening at the realization she was awake.

 

“Callista-”

 

“Go on,” Rath said, as the cave continued to shake, rocks cascading down, just barely missing him. “Take it. Take your weapon.”

 

He stretched out his arm towards her lightsaber, sending it flying into her hand.

 

“Callie, no…”

 

Her eyes locked with Luke’s.

 

_I love you… I won’t give in…_

 

She got to her feet, still unsteady, nearly stumbling over after another powerful quake shook the ground beneath them.

 

“Never,” she said. “I am a Jedi. I will defend the light till the day I die… and I will never join you!”

 

Rath’s eyes darkened. He looked back at her with the wildness of a crazed man, and she saw him draw breath just before he spat out, “Then today will be the day you die-”

 

“NO!!!”

 

She didn’t even see the stalactite break free from the ceiling. Luke’s hand had closed around her wrist and she felt the sharp tug of his arm, but the powerful shake that overtook the cave in that moment made her stumble, and she wasn’t quick enough to move out of the way of the flying rock.

 

She heard a snap—knew that it wasn’t the sound of crackling rock she heard this time, but the snap of her own bones. Pain seared into her and a scream tore into the air. She realized it was her own scream. She looked down at her leg, where the heavy crush of rock sat atop, pinning her to the ground.

 

“Callie-”

 

“You’ve thwarted me for the last time, Jedi!” Rath shrieked at Luke. “And you will watch as I kill her-”

 

The ground shook once more, more violently than ever before. Rath fell down to the ground, his eyes fixed on hers. He never saw the stalactite that had broken loose from the ceiling. By the time he looked up to see that it was heading for him, there was no time to move out of the way.

 

Callista turned her head away as the scream left his mouth. And then it the next moment, it was silenced.

 

The rock had impaled him.

 

The rumbling in the cave stopped abruptly. She looked up to see Luke sending a stream of rocks to patch the cracks, then he aimed a hand at the stalactite that had pinned her to move it out of the way and sank to the ground next to her.

 

“I’ve got you,” he said, collecting her in his arms. “It’s all right, I’ve got you…”

 

“Is he…”

 

She felt him nod, then grip her more tightly. And in that instant, she let go. With a heavy exhale, she collapsed into his arms, sobbing, feeling the last embers of the dark side extinguish within her at last.

 

_I am a Jedi… And I’m coming out of the darkness…_

 

* * *

 

She always hated the smell of bacta. Hated the taste of it even more. She’d be tasting it for weeks, even though she’d been submerged in it for only a matter of minutes; it turned out, the break in her leg had been a clean one, and it would heal relatively quickly and without much damage.

 

There was something to be said for small miracles.

 

Legori City had only one hospital in its midst; it was quite fortunate that they had a bacta tank, however aging it was. The medi-droids that ran the hospital were even older, fussing over her with clipped tones of the Imperial era, briefly reminding her of one especially brutal training session she’d had with Djinn that landed her in the medic bay. She’d had to take a dip in the bacta tank then too, she remembered, wrinkling her nose involuntarily at the memory of it.

 

When they had wheeled her to her room, her leg still weak but already on its way to mending herself, Luke was already there waiting for her outside, his droids standing beside him.

 

“All right if I take over?” he said to the medi-droid that had brought her.

 

“As you wish, sir.”

 

“Threepio, Artoo—mind waiting out here?”

 

“Yes, of course, Master Luke.” said Threepio. “We’ll be here, standing guard.”

 

Luke exchanged a smile with Callista and nodded in approval. “Thanks.”

 

His hand settled on her shoulder, the other pushing the wheelchair into the room. Callista reached up to touch her fingers to his and felt his thumb brush over the arch of her hand in response.

 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, helping her onto the bed. “I bet you’re thinking that you’ll never take another vacation on this rock of a planet ever again.

 

She laughed. It felt good to do so, even if she still felt a little shaky from the bacta and… everything else.

 

She settled onto the bed and looked up at him, resting her head on her hand, then scooted over and motioned for him to join her. His face registered a slight surprise, and a few moments passed by before he finally accepted the wordless invitation. Slowly, gingerly, he slipped beside her on the bed and turned over to his side to face her. She could feel his breath on her face. She had missed the feel of that.

 

Had missed this.

 

“I suppose it would be a stupid question to ask you how you’re feeling,” he said softly. He reached up to brush a stray lock from her face, his fingers grazing her jaw ever so slightly.

 

“Physically, like hell. Emotionally…”

 

“Better, I hope?”

 

She smiled up at him. “Yes, now that you’re here.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Neither am I.”

 

There was surprise in his eyes, a spark that lit up at her words, and he brought a hand up to her cheek. She closed her hand over his, then lay her head down on his arm, bringing it around to drape over her waist.

 

“I’m done running,” she said softly. “I can’t do it anymore. I want to find my way home, and… home to me is _you_.”

 

“Callie…”

 

He raised her chin up to look at him.

 

“I used to think being without the Force made me feel so empty inside,” she said. “And it did, but… not half as empty as being without you was.”

 

“It won’t be easy. You tried to tell me that before and I… I don’t think I wanted to believe you then, but…”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

His mouth curved into a smile and tenderly, he ran his thumb across her mouth before reaching forward to replace it with his own lips. She took in his kiss, pouring all the years of longing, of wanting, into this one moment, telling him without words that she had finally found her way back to the light and would never leave his side again.

 

“We don’t have to rush,” he said. “We can take it one day at a time... however much time you need…”

 

She nodded, loving him all the more for his gentleness, his willingness to slow their pace. But she knew she didn’t need it. She knew now what she did need.

 

“Forever, if we can manage it,” she said, echoing his words to her long ago.

 

She felt, rather than heard him laugh. “If we can manage it.”

 

After a long while, she looked up at him. “I have a feeling… we will.”

 

She kissed him to seal the words.

 

~fin~


End file.
